


Longing, Rusted, Seventeen,...

by ThreeHoundsOnYellowField



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Baby Reveal slow burnish, Boyfriend Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Canon Divergence - Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, F/M, Feels, Friends With Benefits, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Mutual Pining, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, POV Bucky Barnes, POV Sharon Carter (Marvel), Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Rare Pairings, Rare Relationships, Unplanned Pregnancy, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, fluff and angst and smut with plot, reference to PTSD, winter13
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2020-10-17 00:43:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 36,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20612090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThreeHoundsOnYellowField/pseuds/ThreeHoundsOnYellowField
Summary: The Winter Soldier is a sullen, brooding soldier to have mission with, and Sharon Carter is a promising S.H.I.E.L.D. agent known as "Agent 13". It was not "just" a one night stand. Not to her, at least. Oh right, it was not a "one" night stand, either, since he was the best sex she ever had and sometimes being a field agent could lead to a lonely life... It's just she never imagined a baby would complicated things.





	1. All I Have To Do Is Dream

**Author's Note:**

> * DISCLAIMER *  
\- the fic has two PoV; Sharon's and Bucky's,  
\- post CA: Winter Soldier, where Bucky joined the Avengers,  
\- canon divergence;  
\- author is very plot driven;  
\- the Triskelion was destroyed, and they're all in S.H.I.E.L.D base in NY,  
\- and there's already Avengers Tower instead of Stark Tower,  
\- no events of CA:CW happens.
> 
> Thank you!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All I Have To Do is Dream was a song from The Everly Brothers.

_ Fuck. _

_ Fuck. _

The third strip test fell from her trembling hand. It was another positive. She brought her hands to her face. 

_ Fuck. _

Refusing to believe the tests she reached out for the fourth box, ripped open the container with some urgency. She holds the test strip between her legs before realizing her bladder is empty. Sighing, Sharon Carter reached a juice bottle and gulped down the liquid greedily. The already half-emptied bottle didn’t bring the much desired effect; her bladder was still… empty. 

She couldn’t pee anymore and was sick of swallowing gallons of bottled juice that she bought at the pharmacy.

Her breathing hitched as she glared at the pregnancy strips laid down on the sink beside her. She was so stunned that for a moment she trying to remember how to regulate her breathing. She must not panic. She tried to remember her lessons when training as a S.H.I.E.L.D agent few years ago. _ Don’t break under stress _; yet her hands are shaking violently.

_ Fuck, _she cursed one more time before feeling the hot tears in her eyes. She let the tears streaming down her face.

All the pregnancy test results displaying two bright red lines which mean one thing only; she was indeed pregnant, and the fertilized egg already entrenched in her uterus. Maybe the fetus is almost two months-old. She felt sick.

Her legs shook as she stood up from the toilet bowl. With one swift motion Sharon swept the pregnancy test sticks into her backpack. She threw away the juice bottles scattered on the bathroom floor and turned on the water faucet. She washed her hands and splashed her face with the cold water. Her eyes looked big and scared, something she rarely saw when she looked herself in the mirror.

The Everly Brothers’ song reverberated from the speaker as she stepped out of the pharmacy’s toilet. It brings tears to her eyes again. This time she brushed it angrily before it managed to fell down.

> _ I can make you mine, taste your lips of wine _
> 
> _ Anytime night or day _
> 
> _ Only trouble is I’m dreamin’ my life away… _

It’s not that she cannot afford the baby, no…

Her career has been great so far. Great pay, though great risks too. She knew she has many choices for the fetus growing in her belly. Adoption is one of them. Or she better terminate the pregnancy?

Sharon’s heart aches like being stabbed by invisible dagger. 

_ No. I will not kill this little one. _

Adoption, there is.

She felt a pang of sadness already as she imagine a faceless baby she would submit to someone else… _ His baby and hers.... Ours, _she wanted to say his name but instead she bit her bottom lip. 

For some reason the air conditioner inside the pharmacy was bone-chilling cold. She closed her jacket and hugged herself, feeling a bit lost. Her stomach is still flat, not showing the slightest sign of pregnancy. She won’t realize she is with child if she does not have a regular menstrual period. Female agents are on contraceptives provided by S.H.I.E.L.D., especially field agents. She always made sure she took the pills first thing in the morning when she woke up at five.

However the more she contemplated about the pregnancy, she began to remember that one or twice she was late a mere hours in digesting the pills. Could it be…?

_ I am having his child; _the thought came to her again, feeling so surreal.

> _ I need you so that I could die _
> 
> _ I love you so and that is why _
> 
> _ Whenever I want you, all I have to do is dream... _

The song didn’t help at all, besides making her feel worse. She missed him already. There’s no way to contact him right now (and she doesn’t see the point in it too), he is still in Eastern Europe, somewhere, on a mission since the past week. 

She was always troubled every time he went on a mission without her, but this time he was with Captain America and Clint Barton. They must be fine. And she must set a plan regarding the baby inside her.

For a moment she glanced nervously left and right, surveying the quiet pharmacy. A young pharmacist behind the counter is serving a customer. She was doubtful, but she felt she had no other choice. She clearly doesn’t want to terminate the pregnancy, so there was only one option to make when she stepped in front of the pharmacist.

“Can I help you?” the kind looking man looked up.

“I—uh,” she hesitated, wrecking her mind to find the correct words. _ Oh, fuck it. _“Can you suggest some vitamins? For—uh, for pregnancy. Early stage.” she cleared her throat.

The pharmacist didn’t even look surprised when he took out several bottles and patiently explained each of them. She chose one and the pharmacist suggested to add a bottle of calcium. She nodded in agreement, wanting to leave the cold pharmacy as soon as possible and lay down on her bed. Aside from her period that didn’t come, fortunately she has not feel nauseous like some of her female friends used to experience during their pregnancies. For that she was very grateful. Nick Fury and her colleagues will raise hell if she pukes during a mission, or worse.

“I’m sorry if I sound like I’m meddling, I know it is not my business,” the pharmacist says as he handed the vitamins, “but if you are pregnant it’s better to see a doctor right away.” It was he that sold her the pregnancy tests and five bottles of apple juice, so he must have connected the dots easily. That, and her shaken expression.

“Thanks,” Sharon mumbled, took the shopping bag from him and walked out the pharmacy.

The song was mocking her as she stood in front of the store, dazzled and cold under the evening zephyr.

The man is always has a place in her heart, even though he is sullen and often seem distant. She knew that he has not—or could not—be completely forget his past and torture at the hands of HYDRA and their lab rats. Their first mission together (after he got Fury’s clearance and Princess Shuri effectively removed HYDRA’s hypnotic influence from his head) was a month-long stakeout in Botswana. 

They spent more than hundreds of thousand hours together, hiding in an old warehouse on the edge of the town. Well, Tony Stark checked in on them frequently, if not every hour, but mostly it was just her and him. They’d talked (or rather, she talked) and eventually he cracked up a little. Scouting mission could be boring sometimes, but ultimately they found out where the data was hidden. After making plans with S.H.I.E.L.D headquarter they broke in, with him beside her. They were joined by Clint Barton and Captain America as backup, though.

_ “Focus, soldier,” _ he’d say in his deep baritone voice. _ “In and out. I’ll cover you up into the control room. Get the data and then we’re out. The backup is already here. Go get ‘em, soldier.” _

By the time they stepped into the Quinjet to head home, she earned his smile for the first time.

She knew she’d fall hard on him; not that it was expected. Every time he was in the same room as her she feels like gravitate around him. It was like a magnet and she couldn’t resist, no matter hard she tried. If she ever tried at all, that is.

Somehow she made it to her apartment. 

Putting her backpack and shopping bag on the dining table, Sharon took off her jacket, shoes and pulled down her jeans before entering her bedroom. The queensize bed feels cold without him. 

She sighed; face down on the white linen sheet. His scent is still there, though getting vague. They had made love before he had to leave.

_ Made love? _ she pondered, _ or just fucking? _

She is not sure of their relationship status. He did not treat her like a lover, let alone a girlfriend. He never spent the night in her place and refused to stay more than three hours.

_ What would be the reaction if she said she was pregnant with his child? _

It was too deafening right now so she get up to turn on the radio. She groaned when the Everly Brothers’ song come blazing from the stereo.

“Damnit!” she didn’t need to hear any love songs.

> _ I can make you mine, taste your lips of wine _
> 
> _ anytime night or day _
> 
> _ Only trouble is I’m dreaming my life away _
> 
> _ I need you so that I could die _
> 
> _ I love you so and that is why _
> 
> _ Whenever I want you, all I have to do is dream _
> 
> _ Dream, dream, dream... _

He will be home tomorrow.

She will tell him about it… letting him know that he shouldn't be bothered by the pregnancy, that she’s got this. 

A little relief, she lay back on the bed. She didn’t turn off the radio. Laying in the dark of her room, hand on her flat stomach. Yes, she used to dream about him. The legendary soldier, an elite assassin made by HYDRA; he was a legend, the opposite charm of Captain America. 

_ And now I’m having his child, _she thought again. 

Her career has been great; she had her fair share of action and adventures. Is it time to step back?


	2. Stream of Consciousness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stream of Consciousness is an instrumental song from Dream Theater.

In his mind he was fucking her.

He took her in his arms, that vanilla fragrance she uses filled his nostrils as he inhaled deeply. She always shivered whenever his metal arm brushes her naked skin, cold and piercing. Then she’d snuggled even closer. He nudged her thigh with his knee, asking for better access. She gave it to him willingly as he nuzzled at the crook of her neck.

He heard her heartbeats; feeling the pulsating veins in her neck... her lips parted as she moaned his name. He was so hard just then, his cock wanting release from the strain of his pants. It didn’t take long before he tore her dress in his hastiness and fumbled with his own clothing; he was aching for her.

_ “Buck,” she sighed. “Oh, buck...” _

It has been decades since he holds a girl, but no one compares to her. Over time he accepted the fact that he grew fond of Agent 13, whom Nick Fury previously assigned to protect Steve. Bucky snorted when he remembered it. Steve obviously doesn’t need protection, let alone from a girl. But whatever; he kept his opinion in check when she was assigned to him not long after he returned from Wakanda.

S.H.I.E.L.D., and later the Avengers, welcomed him, so he will not let his opinion heard. It was like they don’t need it, either. So Bucky accepted the assignment indifferently. 

Sharon always makes these sweet sounds every time he touches her—the last time they fucked she became so loud that he almost certain the neighbor next door could hear them. Thank Goodness Steve move out from the complex. He couldn’t bear anyone know he’s sleeping with agent Sharon Carter...

Or_ his little soldier, _ the way he like to called her. 

_ “Bucky, please,” she whimpered, her eyes looked into his with such tenderness he couldn’t really place. _

_ “Spread your legs wider, little soldier.” _

_ She complied right away. _

The memory made him yearn to get into the Quinjet.

But he couldn’t go home, not yet. Bullets and embers rained down on their heads. Bucky ducked down. Steve appeared in the corner of his eye; the blue and silver costume Steve wears dirty with dust and blood. 

_ Sharon wears a blue dress that he ripped apart in his haste to get her naked. _

_ Fuck, I should stop thinking about her, _he scolded himself.

“Been good?” Clint’s voice boomed in his earpiece.

“Comfortable.” he replied.

“Clint, I saw three tanks approaching from the west. Can you find a weak spot to infiltrate?” Steve asked. 

“Yeah, saw ‘em, too.” Clint’s voice err-ed now and then, thanks to static. “The smoke is too thick I can’t get a clean shot. You and the Winter Soldier will need to take ‘em down yourselves, Capt. Sorry.”

He grimaced. _ Great, thanks, Barton, _he wanted to roll his eyes. 

The terrorist organization in that small country on the border of Russia and Belarus seems to have very high resistance. They also have technology and weaponry. Tony Stark knows that the organization have two nuclear reactors; danger looms at the end of the day if they fail to retract and subdued it. And tanks! Great; tree huge tanks made of pure steel drove at them at full speed. How wonderful! He had glimpsed of the tanks amidst the smoke, trying to find a weak opening. So far there were none.

“Do you know what I will do after we get out of this shithole?” he talked to his mouthpiece. “Get a fucking bath. These place reek of filth and rotten flesh.”

“I’ll be happy to eat a cheeseburger.” Stark cheerfully replied. 

“We will come to them from their north and south. Smash the snouts first and watch out for any infantry.” Steve reminds them.

“You can go now, Capt. I’ll guard your path.” it was Clint’s voice again, from his earpiece.

Steve turned to him. “Alright, Buck, ready for this?”

“Until the end of the line, buddy.”

“Until the end of the line,” Steve smirked. 

They darted from their hiding place, running as fast as they could to avoid fire and bullets fired blindly by the enemy. Rocks and earth crunched beneath his boots; fortunately HYDRA made him superior to ordinary humans, thanks to the super serum injected to him while he was their prisoner of war.

On his right Steve jumped up to one of the nearest tanks, right in the muzzle of its cannon. Captain America easily tore the muzzle of the tank and pulled the steel loose. 

Bucky climbed onto one too and grabbed the muzzle. The steel was burning hot; the result of a cannon being fired from behind the steel. He groaned as he pulled, hearing the steel bent and started to break. Muffled angry voices radiated from inside the tank. He threw away the chunk of steel just as he saw the hatch flung open. A man aimed his weapon to him but Bucky was faster; his M4 Carbine shot the man right in his eye, killing him instantly. The hatch was still opened. Bucky used the opportunity to pull a grenade from his belt, pulling out the safety pin and throw it into the tank before closing the hatch.

Smoke faded as the third tank rose its muzzle, ready to fire before a whirl of wind struck—Clint finally has a clear shot. The arrow went right into the muzzle just when it fires the cannon. The tank exploded, sending sharp debris and burning steel. 

Bucky jumped from the second tank a mere second before it exploded.

“How many people are they?!” Clint shouted in his earpiece. “They keep comin’! Where are you, Stark??”

”Here, inside the bunker, retrieving the reactors.” Stark answered cheerfully. He was not a second later. “Uh-oh.”

“What is it?” Steve asked.

“Found a self-destruct bomb. This place and the surrounding area will explode within… _ less than one minute. _Oh, Shit!”

“Get out of there! Buck, Clint, we’re done here. Anyone please confirm there are no civilians in the area? Stark, do you know how destructive the blast will be?”

“Area is safe with no civilians, Captain.” came Maria Hill’s voice.

“Ten miles, at the least. I’m done here, anyone need a lift?” 

Bucky looked up to the direction where the bunker was. A huge _ crack _was heard as Tony Stark in his Iron Man suit fly up from it. He turned towards their direction.

“Get ready!” the billionaire’s voice pierced through the earpiece.

As in slow motion, the bunker started to heat up and the force of the explosion was too strong; Bucky felt his feet ejected from the ground before Iron Man grabbed him and fly away.

“Shit, hang on!” he yelled. “You guys are heavy!”

Bucky saw Steve dangling on his other hand. As they neared Clint, Bucky reached out his arm to grab his friend and together Tony pushed his iron suit up to the sky, taking them safely and away from the blast.

\---

He was covered with dirt, blood and filth from head to toe. Rather jetlagged, Bucky descended from the Quinjet and squinted when the afternoon sun hit him. The six hours flight home he spent sleeping. When the jet touched the runway at S.H.I.E.L.D headquarter, he was awake instantly. Nick Fury himself was waiting for them at the hangar.

“Good escape, Mr. Stark.” he said, receiving the metal box with the reactors. 

“I will send you the bill.” Tony laughed. “Now who wants to join me for cheeseburgers?”

“Nah, I’ll need to lie down.” Clint refused, yawning.

“Captain?” Tony turned to Steve, who smiled and shook his head apologetically. “Fine then. You, sullen Sergeant?”

Bucky grunted his refusal and walked out the hangar.

“C’mon, guys, it’s still day time!” he heard Tony protested.

It is indeed still day time here and though he was tired but he jogged into the tower where his quarter is. Bucky throws his duffel bag to his bedroom floor and stripped out of his clothes until he was naked under the shower. The water was scalding hot, which was much needed to scrub away the dirt. Afterwards he donned his usual black t-shirt, dark green parka, black cargo pants and boots. Nick will want to be brief about the mission, but usually he let the team rest for at least few hours before he set up the meeting.

Since it was just a shy minutes after dusk when he emerged from his quarter, Bucky thought Fury will wait until tomorrow morning to gather them. After all, he already longed to see her. Usually she works late, being the workaholic she was, but he knows today Sharon came home early. He, too, returned a day earlier than his mission should be.

The distances between S.H.I.E.L.D headquarter and Sharon’s apartment was only a few blocks. He quickly reached the square building made of brown bricks. From a distance he saw Sharon’s room was dark. He frowned. Maybe she is still outside and not at home? 

He didn’t have the keys to her apartment, but that was no problem. Besides, he rarely enters from the main door. Bucky pulled the fire escape stairs and started to climbed up. Her room is located on the third floor at the end of the hall. The curtain was draw closed and Bucky peeked inside, trying to locate her.

In the dim light of her bedroom he managed to see her lying in bed. It seemed she had fallen asleep. Bucky held up the window ledge as quietly as possible so as not to wake her. He crept to her bedside, to watch her sleep for a moment. She looks peaceful. Her golden locks splayed on the pillow; her chest weaved softly. He can spend the whole night watching her sleep. The radio was on to some old music from the seventies; she was such an old soul. Bucky smiled.

As if feeling his presence, Sharon begins to stir. Her hand instinctively reached under the pillow, to the gun that Bucky knew was hidden there.

“It’s me, little soldier.” he moved fast to her, holding her hand that had half pulled the gun.

“Bucky?” she sounded terrified but once her eyes saw him she let out a shaky breath. “I thought you return tomorrow?”

“Change of plan,” he replied, planting a kiss on her lips. She returned the kiss eagerly, hugging his neck. Bucky sighed contently to the vanilla scent oozing from her skin. He really is glad to be home. 

“I missed you,” she said between their kiss, somehow sounded sad to his ears. She never told him such things, her feelings, and it awakes something inside him. 

Bucky broke the kiss to climb fully onto the bed, kicking his boots off. She shifted to make room for him. 

“Are you alright?” He asked, reaching to turn on the bedside lamp to give some light. 

Sharon winced and sunk to the bed again. 

“Yeah.” She answered.

”You went to bed early.” Not that it was odd; after she worked for seventy-two hours straight she liked to go home and sleep dead to the world. But he checked her clock earlier, just to make sure she was not in headquarters. She clocked out pretty much normal; at eighteen hours straight, went home at four in the afternoon. “Are you sick?” She seemed pale and fragile, her eyes fluttered shut as soon as she lay on the bed again.

Bucky touched her forehead to check on her temperature. Normal. 

“Uhh, I was just exhausted...” she said.

“I will leave you to rest, then. Do you need anything, little soldier?” 

“You. Please stay?” He recognized the hope in her voice. Bucky, too, longed to spend the night with her. But he can’t. 

“You know I can’t,”

Her eyes flipped open. “Why are you here?” she asked weakly. 

_ Because I missed you too. _

”Just checking on my little soldier. You clocked out early. Are you sure you're okay?” he dipped onto the bed and took her in his arms. She shuddered when his metal arm brushes her neck. 

“Yeah. I—I was just exhausted.” She yawns. 

Bucky held her closer, letting her rest her head on his chest. 

“Me too.”

”How was the mission?”

”Stark joined the party. It was good.” 

“I’m glad you’re okay. You are, aren’t you?” Her eyes flutters open again to examine him. 

“I am, little soldier.”

She yawns again. She felt good in his arms, this fragile Agent 13. Bucky loved how her hands seemed to fit in his, how her lips curled into the sideways smiles he adored... he held her a little tighter as she snuggle into him. Soon her breathing becomes regular as she drifted to sleep. 

Bucky held her for an hour before he carefully rolled and tucked her in. Just as his body left the bed, Sharon’s hand jerked in her sleep and searching for him. She kept moving her hand around his side of the bed, grabbing only air, looking for him. He turns off the radio, the bedside lamp, and went back to her on the bed.

She blindly found his hand and sighed in her sleep.

It made his heart miserable. No matter how much he wanted to spend the night with her, he can’t. What if he strangles her in his sleep? What if he hurt her without him knowing? It’d be too late considering his brute strength. He doesn’t want to hurt her. He is afraid of what he might do unconsciously. So he set up three unspoken rules between them; _he will not spend a night with her, he'd leave after three hours, _and (this is what he kept saying to himself) _they are not a couple or whatever people called it. _

But of course there are exceptions like when they were put in a mission together. Sometimes they need to share a bed, the floor, the couch... basically sharing the place to rest. It was easy before he got physical with her. He knew agents are fucking each other but he held back from such things. Yet maybe he didn't strain himself better from her. Slowly, but surely, she becomes his main weakness.

Was it after Botswana, or Uganda?

Maybe when they were in Czech? No, Kosovo...

Yes, he remembered Kosovo vividly and it brought smile to his face.

She was ecstatic to be in Kosovo, but she always happy to venture into new country even if it for work. She was even more delighted to know he speaks two of the official languages, which are Serbian and Romani. His great-grandmother was born in Serbia before migrating to America. His mother was of Romanian descent. He remembers his parents switching languages at home.

_"Can you say something in Serbian? They're like, the hardest language ever!"_

_He gave her a sly smile, "What for? You wouldn't understand what I am talking about."_

_"I just love to hear the language!"_

_"Volim te, mali moj vojniče."_

_"What does that mean?" _ _she looked at him, beaming, as the Quinjet took off from Pristina, Kosovo's capital, to head home._

_"I told you, you wouldn't understand, little soldier."_

She now sighed in her sleep. There is no greater desire than to get back into bed and hold her close. But Bucky knew better. He will see her in the morning. It will be safer for her.


	3. Let Me Sing and I’m Happy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let Me Sing and I’m Happy, a song by Al Jolson.

She started to feel tired almost all the time. It becomes excruciatingly hard for her to keep her eyes open, especially now that she tries to avoid coffee. It made her stomach sick and the last thing she wanted was to vomit like crazy and make her colleagues suspicious. Her tiredness becomes more often that once Agent Hill found her sleeping in the pantry. Even in one the weekly briefings agent Coulson had to shake her awake.

“Get yourself together, Agent Sleepy,” Coulson chuckled, “Late night activities?”

She turned red, “No, no, no. What kind of late night activities?” she scoffed to Coulson’s remark, trying to hide her nervousness. 

She hadn’t talk to Bucky about the pregnancy. Saving the world is time consuming. The evening Bucky appeared after returning from his last mission, she was too tired to open her eyes. The next day when she saw him at the S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters she didn’t get the chance to be alone with him. Bucky always kept his distance from her at work and the last thing she wants is to make him uncomfortable. The chance to be alone seemed impossible in the meantime. What they’ve got only brief greetings whenever they happened to cross each other path in corridors full of agents.

Breaking the pregnancy to him would be tricky. She tried to imagine how he’d react; one of her cousin got pregnant out of wedlock and the baby’s father was furious. _ Bucky won’t be angry, _ she thought. _ Or will he? Maybe he’d be scared. _

“Hey, 13.” Natalia Alianovna Romanova—or usually goes by her more American name, Natasha—dropped into the chair next to Sharon in the canteen. Nat’s lunch tray hits her porridge bowl. “Goodness! Is that—?” she wrinkled her tiny nose at the lump on Sharon’s bowl.

“Fish porridge takeaway.” she confirmed.

“Uh, gross,” Nat started to dig in to her lunch. “Upset stomach? You should see the doc in the infirmary. Don’t let it prevented you from doing your duty.”

“Maybe I will,” she said awkwardly. Nat is a great friend, the closest to her besides Bucky, but she is also a highly trained spy. That fact only spikes up her nerves to be around the famous Black Widow. The woman could smell the faintest lie; Sharon couldn’t risk her not so wellbeing to get under Nat’s quick eyes. “Hey, do you happen to see Buck?” she asked casually. 

“Brooding and hitting new recruits in the gym. Sam’s with him.” Nat answered without looking away from her cellphone. 

Located in the farthest wing of S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters, the Training Academy—or all agents called gym for short—is a full-service training facility, completes with firing ranges, two Olympic level swimming pools, a library, dining hall, and (well, of course) a vast gym. Prospective agents or New Agent Trainees (or they called as NATs) must take actual fitness test several times throughout their hiring process. Special field agents like Nat and her also required to take the test regularly and trained in the gym to ensure they remain in shape handling the physical demands of their jobs. It is not odd to find agents, ranging from NATs to level-7 agents spending their time in the gym. The Avengers also often visited the place. Everyone but Thor; he mostly confused by the tools available there.

Nick Fury requires senior agents and the Avengers themselves to be involved in training NATs. Some welcomed it as an honor, like Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson, others take it as a burden (Bucky, nonetheless).

It was there where she officially met Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Soldier himself, exactly two and a half year ago. He wore a black training shorts with grey long-sleeve t-shirt that hide his vibranium left arm, but not hiding his toned muscled body. His dark shoulder-length hair was tied into a man bun that oddly suited him well, to her surprise.

_ “So… Agent Carter. You’re like, what? My little soldier to watch my back and report to Fury?” he asked mockingly as she stood in her sports bra and yoga pants in the middle of the mattress. He didn’t smile and not even looked friendly. His face hardened with his jaw clenched. _

_ “Yes, I’m here to watch your back and report you to Fury.” _

_ He snorted. “You can report whatever you like. I don’t need you to watch my back.” _

_ She thought so too; the six foot tall man standing before her clearly looks more than fine and intimidating by himself. She had to look up to be able to look at his face, the Winter Soldier’s blue eyes looking back at her with disinterest. _

_ “But let’s give Fury a good show,” he said, gazing to the S.H.I.E.L.D director standing behind her, out within earshot. “I cannot disappoint the man who welcomes me here. Let’s see what you’ve got, Doll.” _

_ “I am not a doll.” She should have known that the Winter Soldier could not have been a friendly person, after all. _

_ She kept her eyes locked into his as she took her position, but soon found herself cannot hold the pressure. His stare was too intense she started to feel uncomfortable. _

_ “Ladies first.” he teased, letting her went for the first jab. She knew he didn’t use his potential, not even the slightest as he never returned her kicks and jabs. Instead he always took the defensive mode and never blows back. It annoyed her to the core. Superhuman serum or no, he should try to at least sparring decently with her. She leaped and managed to distract him with false move and putting a high kick — too high — to the Winter Soldier’s temple. A mere second before her feet touched him, his hand caught Sharon’s ankle and threw her as if she were a piece of paper. She flung fifteen feet away and landed on the mattress, stunned. _

_ Nick Fury’s applause echoed inside the gym. _

_ “Are you alright, Doll?” he was half running to her. There was shock and guilt in his face. _

_ “I am not a Doll.” she grumbled. _

_ “Sorry. I did it on reflex.” he looked ashamed. _

_ “It's okay. It was a good one, Sergeant.” _

_ “Bucky.” _

_ “Huh?” she stood up and rubbed her elbow. It will be bruised tomorrow as she landed ungracefully on her elbow. _

_ “You can call me Bucky. Everyone calls me Bucky.” _

She shook her head at the memory.

As she walked into the gym she instantly saw him on the middle mattress, sparring with three NATs in his black shorts and equally dark t-shirt. He donned the man bun just like the first time they met. She saw that he had just shaved his beard and mustache. The NATs around him were slick with sweat, one of the guys even sported a broken lip. They attacked him from three different angles. In less than twenty seconds all of them fell to the mattress, groaning. 

Bucky’s eyes flew to met hers. He immediately halt his activity and meet her in the sidelines.

“Hey, where have you been?” he asked softly. “Haven’t seen you around the compound.”

There is gentleness in his eyes now; something she deeply cherished. After Czech, Fury finally freed her from watching the Winter Soldier. They are still working together on several missions, but it was too late then. She was already falling for him, thanks to many hours Fury put them together. That, and his kind and gentle nature despite from the outside he looks bitter.

“Well, this is a huge place.” she smiles.

“Stark throw a party tonight. The new tower finally finished and he wanted to celebrate. You should come as my plus one.”

She had heard about the Avengers Tower that Tony Stark builds after New York incident. Bucky and the rest of the Avengers will move out from S.H.I.E.L.D dormitory to the newly finished tower. The whole quarters are excited about the celebration. Stark always throws the mightiest party, making the man called himself the twenty first century Gatsby. 

Bucky looked at her expectantly. 

_ He must be joking, _ she thought. _ Did he mean plus one like a date, or like a friend? _

She decided she doesn’t want to press his statement further.

“Actually, Cameron from tech asked me too,” she whispered conspiratory. “Shall I say yes, Sergeant?”

Something flashed in Bucky’s eyes. He inclined his head, being cocky all over again. “Why, do you like the geek type?”

“He’s kind of cute.” she shrugged. “Maybe I should give him a chance.”

He looks like he wanted to say something but Sam called him. 

“Hey, Buck, are you done? Hey, 13!”

Sharon waved at him.

“A minute, Bird.” he shouted back without wavering his eyes off her.

“Did you just call Sam ‘Bird’?”

”I know right, he’s an asshole!” Sam shouted from the mattress.

Bucky turned to roll his eyes at The Falcon. 

“So… we meet tonight at Stark’s?”

“Yeah. Sure.”

“Did you come all the way here to tell me Cameron asked you out?”

_ Well, actually I wanted to tell you that hey, I’m pregnant, and you’re the father, _she thought.

“Yeah, what’s wrong with asking your friend’s opinion?” she asked back, smiling.

Bucky throw her one last look before he walking towards Sam Wilson and the awaiting NATs.

\--- 

He used to be upset at her; she occupied the room next door to him in the headquarters (Fury’s order to spy on him). She practically walked in his shadow for six months, to his annoyance (again, Fury’s order), before they were shipped to Botswana on their first mission. After that came Uganda, Czech, Kosovo, and Yemen. Some here and there national missions around the states in between. It took her a full year to make him warmed up to her. 

The first time they did it was in Yemen; the tunnel was filthy, located under the desert and they smelled like rotten cabbage after twenty hours underground. It had been a long day. All they wanted was good cold shower before hitting the bed in their hotel rooms, waiting for S.H.I.E.L.D to take them home. 

Bucky had turned on the radio in his room. She heard Al Jolson’s song from the radio and came knocking to the connecting door between their rooms. It was the first english language she heard after five days straight in Arabic country (_ “Oh my God! It’s Al Jolson’s!” _). She was excited and begun to sing, she knew the lyric well since it was her mother’s favorite. 

Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed as his eyes followed her dancing around the small hotel room, bouncing happily to the song. 

_ “Let me sing a sunny song with crazy words that roll along… and if my song can start you laughing, I’m happy, happy...” _ she was not the best singer but she managed the right tune singing along with Al Jolson, _ “Let me sing a sad refrain of broken hearts who loved in vain. And if my song can start you crying, I’m happy… Let me croon a low down blues that lifts you out of your seat. If my song can reach your shoes and start you tapping your feet, I’m happy...” _

Bucky cracked out a small smile at her. It was not the first time she sang to him; in her youth she was obsessed with karaoke and now her favorite audience is a sullen soldier who usually groaned in frustration at her singing ability. He was smiling now, though, which she took as good omen. 

She grabbed his hand and pulled him from the chair he was sitting at,_ “Let me sing of Dixie’s charms, of cotton fields and Mammy’s arms… and if my song can make you homesick, I’m happy… Let me sing a sunny song with crazy words that roll along, and if my song can start you laughing I’m happy, ooh happy...” _

He stalled her dancing movement with iron grip on her waist, she laughed and wiggled free, like a bird flying away from her nest. Bucky caught her again easily. 

“Dance, Bucky!” She giggled, but he was too strong she couldn’t budge him to move, let alone dance, not even an inch. 

Suddenly he whisked her up and buried his face on her neck, hugging her tight in the middle of the room. It sent her jolts like she was electrocuted. It happened so fast making her thought she only imagining it before Bucky sent her down. Her feet instantly went weak and she tripped. Bucky tighten his grip on her waist, refusing to let her fall. 

His lips crept painfully slow to find her lips. 

She sighed into his mouth, her heart flutters wildly. His lip was soft, warm, a bit demanding... The song was forgotten completely as she melts into his arms and his kiss... before Bucky broke it abruptly.

“No. I—I won’t take more than what you want to give,” he said hoarsely as he pulled away from her, clearly hesitate to continue. 

Her answer was taking his face in her hands, making him look at her... He still had that lost puppy look at the slightest touch, after decades of being tied to metal and steel. Bucky looked back at her with two big sad eyes. The blue of his eyes mesmerized her. She had to stand on her toes to reach his cheek. He’d need to bend down to make it easier for both of them.

“Bucky,” she whispered, uncertain with how he’d react but she boldly caressed his cheek. The two days old stubble was rough under her palm. “What if I want to give everything?” 

He grunted and kisses her again, to her relief. He tasted amazing; clove and peppermint, maybe from his mouthwash. Their hair was still damp from the shower and she had not finish packing. The Quinjet will pick them up soon... but all she cared was Bucky. 

He lifted her up like she weights nothing and flopped her onto the bed. It creaked dangerously under their combined weight. He never stopped kissing her and she didn’t want it to end either. His lips were everywhere; her lips, her nose, her neck, her breasts after he lifted the hem of her blouse and pulled down her bra... she moaned his name which only spurred him more eagerly. Their pagers beeped in unison, announcing the pick up information. They ignored it, not even bothered to glance at the small black gadget. 

“Tell me to stop and I will,” he whispered hoarsely. 

“Don’t stop,” she whispered back, her lips swollen from his kisses. 

She wasn’t sure who was the first to undressed; maybe it was her, since Bucky only wore his t-shirt and jogging pants. She had more layers on her. Their pagers beeped louder and Bucky snatched his from the bedside table, throwing it across the room. The beeper broke apart and stopped beeping.

She lied down on the bed, panting harder as Bucky drew her panties down her legs and his calloused fingers touched her moist slit. She pulled his t-shirt off, revealing the muscled shoulder and stomach; his skin pale with scars. Her lips explored his shoulder and descended to the man’s stomach, making him shuddered. She wanted to learn every scar on his body. Just as when she nearly reached his groin he called it off and pushed her flat on her back. She whimpered when his fingers found her aching cunt again. He smeared his fingers with her wetness and dragged all the way up from her opening to her clit, staying there. 

“Tell me to stop.” He said, rather menacing but his fingers tender on her throbbing member. 

“No.” 

He hastily dragged his jogging pants down, the satisfying size manhood sprang free and stiff like a flagpole. Bucky maneuvered it to her opening and both moaned at the contact. 

“This is your last chance... I—I don’t think I can stop once I entered,”

”Then don’t stop!” She almost yell, frustrated. 

And with that he pushed into her. He’s wider than she had thought and it took her some time to adjust to his size. Her walls clasped down on him and he was clenching his jaw, concentrating. Sweat began to form on his forehead. She let out a cry as his cock finally buried all the way to his hilt.

“Did I hurt you?” He crooked a strange sound from his throat.

”No... You just felt amazing.”

He chuckled. When she tried to move her hips, he grasped her to stop her wriggling. 

“Wait,” he groaned, “you’re so tight, I need more time... otherwise this will end soon for both of us.”

Her pager beeping from the other room persistently.

”Goddamn, I hate Fury,” Bucky grunted.

He started to move inside her gently at first, his right hand on her hips rocking her to meet his thrusts. The vibranium hand sneaked to her neck, holding her still beneath him. Cold and pure strength, but also tender at the same time. Her arms flung to his shoulders, pulling him to an embrace as he sped up the pace. She was drunk of his kisses. 

Who would have thought his cold eyes could look at her as if she were the most valuable thing in the world? Who knew it turned out that his lips, hard and curled into constant pout, felt full of love on her body? 

And when those lips trying to muffle her moans, it only made it even louder.

She came with his name on her lips, legs hugging his waist so tight she afraid she’d break. Her fingers dug into his scalp, holding for dear life as her climax took her wave after wave. 

“Oh, fuck,” he grunted, never ceasing speed. Loud creaking sound could be heard from under the bed. “Oh, fuck, fuck,” 

She sensed him withdrawing. “No,” she managed a whisper, keeping him close. “All female agents are on pills.”

His face wrinkled like he was in pain, before he buried his face on her shoulder and gave her a small bite. He exploded inside her, filling her with his seed. Just then the bed gave away to their weight and broke down with a loud _ bang. _

Two hours later when they boarded the Quinjet, Nat gave her a weird look. The Quinjet was from Djibouti mission, with Phil Coulson and Steve Rogers on board.

“You’re late. We paged you thousands time,” Steve raised his eyebrow to his best friend.

“I accidentally dropped the pager. It broke down.” Bucky replied indifferently, buckling himself up in one of the available seat.

“How about yours?” Nat turned to her and smirk. “Did it break down too?” 

Her hands automatically went to raise the collar of her jacket. Bucky’s bite mark was still fresh. “No, that’s why we can meet you here.”

“Yeah? Two hours late,” Nat whispered, glancing towards Bucky. Sharon kept her face blank.

She had thought it was just another one night stand; fully aware that agents sleeping with each other all the time. Maybe he doesn’t want to do it again and she was… well, she was fine with that, she thought. She missed him, though. It was the best sex she ever had. They are good friends and she cherished that, hoping it will not change after their little escapade.

Then one night he came knocking on her window (weird thing that he never uses the front door unless with someone!). He was just come back from a mission without her, all jittery. Later on he settled a habit to visit her whenever he touched down from a mission. 

And it doesn’t always come to sex. Sometimes he’d popped in just to chat. They talked about the life in the 1930s, the World War II, about his family, and of course about work in general… whatever comes to their minds. Once he opened up he is easy to talk to. She’d ordered pizza, or his favorite Chinese take away from Ollie’s Sichuan and they’d settled down in the couch, watching TV. He is the comfiest companion she could ever ask for. If she tries to snuggle after a tiring day at work he didn’t complain. He has the most magic hands. 

Sharon sighed; she was being sentimental recently, reminiscence old times. Must be the hormones. She really doesn’t want to blow away their friendship. Men always freak out if a woman tells them _ “I love you” _ or _ “I’m having your baby” _. 

Geez, she already pocketed those two things now.

She pulled out the emerald green dress from the closet. The material is comfortable, not too thin, not too thick, with spaghetti-strap. The tip waved slightly above the knee. The color itself contrasted with her pale skin and made her eyes popped out. Cameron texted her earlier letting her know that he was on the way. She rolled her eyes, reminding herself to tell Cam that they’re going out as _ friends, _nothing more. And that he shouldn’t bother to pick her up like it was a date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I understand that the Winter Soldier/Bucky Barnes from the comic book has brown eyes.  
But I LOVED Sebastian Stan. SO. MUCH.  
So I'll go with his eyes, which is blue.


	4. Beautiful Girl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beautiful Girl, a song from Jose Mari Chan.

_ I am a ghost. _

_ I don’t exist. _

_ “You’re to be the new fist of HYDRA!” _

_ No. _

_ No. _

_ NO. _

He jerked awake from the terrible, recurring dream of a room full of steel. 

The bed was soaked in his sweat. Bucky blinked, confused of where he was. Until his eyes fell to the end of the room, to the mirror, and his reflection looked back at him. He looks pale almost like a real ghost. It certainly wasn’t the room of steel, but rather his room in the S.H.I.E.L.D dormitory. 

“Barnes, James Buchanan. 32557038, 107th Infantry Regiment,” his voice was hoarse like an old man. 

“Barnes, James Buchanan. 32557038, 107th Infantry Regiment,” he repeated the sentence again, louder. 

_ You’re a ghost. _

“Barnes, James Buchanan. 32557038, 107th Infantry Regiment. Barnes, James Buchanan. 32557038, 107th Infantry Regiment. Barnes—,”

_ “Wake the Asset up.” _

_ No… NO! _

“...James Buchanan. 32557038, 107th Infantry Regiment. Barnes, James Buchanan. 32557038, 107th Infantry Regiment. Barnes—”

_ I am not a ghost. _

_ My name is Bucky Barnes. _

\---

He knocked down his opponent to the mattress without much sweat. The trainee let out a grunt, which was considered pretty strong to withstand the pain he must have caused. He almost dislodged the trainee’s clavicle. Well, _ Almost. _Thankfully not, or he’d fall under Fury’s microscope again and betraying the old man’s trust. He is not the robotic soldier to maimed and kill, after all. Not anymore.

“You’re thinking too much I could hear you.” Bucky reprimanded him. “And you moved too slow. I could kill you at least five times before this one and it would be a quick one before you even blink.”

Days where it was Bucky’s turn to coach the NATs are the worst; he have to endure strangers he doesn’t know and doesn’t care about. To make it even worse Fury commanded it. Four times a week if he is out of field duties. 

Bucky hated it. From the back of his head he knew the NATs cower before him, whispering how an ex-HYDRA agent/assassin shouldn’t walking around S.H.I.E.L.D freely like some Avengers. They are just too afraid to say the word directly. Bucky knew the NATs loathed to have him teach hand-to-hand combat; he sent most of them home with at least a broken nose and ruined self-esteem. They preferred Steve (which he perfectly understood the reason) and the new ones who fell into his schedule usually pay more attention to his prosthetic vibranium arm. Their first mistake. Bucky made sure their eyes paid attention to his other hand too, or they’d go home with more than a broken nose. 

It was even worse when Fury assigned him and Clint Barton to train the NATs in marksmanship and high proficiency of handling firearms. They preferred Barton, too, in that. 

Sam Wilson clapped his hands from the sideline, dismissing the NATs. “Alright, kids, that would be all for today!”

Bucky walked off the mat and grabbed his backpack. Sensing his friend’s mood, Sam fell in beside him. The guy knew he doesn’t like socializing, particularly when the other party ogling him like he’d say _ Hail, HYDRA _(he remembered he never said it, not even when he was under their control). 

It’s weird that Sam hardly had bad days; its sunshine and even more sun rays to him. He is a good friend too, knowing that their first encounter was in some DC highway with him trying to kill Steve, Sam and Natasha. He was still under HYDRA influence back then. 

When he escaped DC and went into hiding it was Steve and Sam who found him in Bucharest. Weird as it was, Steve, Sam and Nat advocated Fury to take him in.

“Let’s go get some pasta.” 

“Yeah. Sure.” Bucky mumbled his reply. 

They went into the dining hall and saw Tony already sat in one of the tables with Steve. Kale and spinach smoothies for Tony and a cup of latte for Steve. They were debating something, but it was not unusual. Tony’s quirkiness could be handful for (most) people. 

Bucky dropped himself next to Steve, a plate of spaghetti in front of him. He took out his cellphone and contemplated what to text his little soldier. She had come to see him earlier that day in the gym, but they couldn’t spend much time talking to his dismay. 

_ Hey _—he managed to type, before deleting the message. 

_ Are you really going to go with Cameron? _ —he deleted the message again. _ No no, that sounds weird. I’m supposed to not give a damn about it. _

_ Bird and I just finished babysitting some awful NATs you wouldn’t believe it... _—Bucky typed again, his brows furrowed in deep concentration. 

_ Since when has it been difficult to talk to a woman? _Bucky groaned inwardly. 

“Who are you texting?” Sam asked.

“No one. Shoo, Bird.” Bucky moved his chair further from Sam’s peering eyes. He faintly heard Tony giving bawdy advices to Steve about bedroom activities. One of the suggestions was so misleading that it made Steve look upset and prepare to dispose the rest of his latte to Tony’s unsuspecting face.

“Nah. You’ll cum better if you make a woman come before you. _ Ladies first, _ gentlemen.” Bucky answered subconsciously, still staring at his cellphone’s screen. 

The silence that came after was deafening, he practically hear the _ buzz _from the vending machine across the dining hall. Bucky looked up from his cell to see Tony, Steve and Sam all glared at him as if he grew second head around his neck. 

“Uhh, just… an experience from the ‘40s.” he quickly added, but the damage was done.

“Well, Barnes,” Tony cleared his throat, clearly shocked, “that shades a new light on you. The wisdom, I mean. But come to think about it, you’re like, what, a hundred years old?”

“Tony.” Steve rebuked the quick-mouthed billionaire.

“You’re getting laid?” Sam stopped eating, trying to snatch the cellphone from his hand but Bucky was faster. “Is that some chick you’re texting?”

“You’re texting a girl?” Tony was even more bewildered.

“Guys, come on.” Steve looks tired, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Bucky shoved the cellphone to his pocket and started to dig in his forgotten spaghetti, ignoring Tony and Sam. Natasha came walking into the dining hall with some folders in her hand. The infamous Black Widow slumped into the seat behind Steve and handed him the files.

“Who’s getting the booty call?” she asked nonchalantly, clearly eavesdropping their conversation. 

“What’s a booty call?” Steve asked.

“It’s when a guy calls or having rendezvous with a girl only to have sex. Is that what you just do, Buck?”

Bucky choked on his spaghetti and threw a coughing fit at Nat’s reply. Steve patted his back.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah.” Bucky gulped down Steve’s latte.

Natasha laughed heartily. “No offense, Buck. You do seem like texting for booty. And that wise advice you just gave this two? _ Zhenshchina, s kotoroy vy spali, deystvitel'no povezlo.” _she commented in Russian.

“Shut up!”

_ Did he unconsciously treat Sharon like that? _ he wondered, feeling awful. _ God, how did their relationship become as complicated as this? _

He didn’t think he’d bed her that one time in Yemen. That she’d be so willing, for a second he thought she might have loved him back…

Afterwards he wanted to avoid her like a plague; afraid his feelings would show or worse, deepens. Fortunately he was immediately deployed again with Sam and Fury on diplomacy mission to Bogota. But he just couldn’t stop thinking about her. He needed to see her, feeling her again in his arms. It was fuck up weird; a terrifying new emotion to him.

He is happy with Steve and Sam; listening to Sam’s album collection (they both liked Marvin Gaye), drinking beer while playing cards. He and Steve are like Sam’s two lost students every time he gives an update about what they missed from the last decades of the 20th century. _ Star Wars. Thai food _ (too spicy to his liking, though). _ Madonna. Disco. Nirvana. Soviet Union Dissolution. The World Cup. Steve Jobs _(what a great mind, somewhat reminds him of Tony).

Tony once took him shopping but he was lost in the man’s sense of fashion. _ Too dapper, _it the words was not mistaken. He will not be able to fight in the Tom Ford suit; plus, it makes him felt like an agent while he is an army his whole life. He laughed at Sam’s jokes, went for jogging with Steve and Rhodes, even exchanging friendly banter with Natasha in Russian (to the others’ dismay because they don’t understand a word)—but every time Agent 13 entered the room his eyes could not stop looking at her. For a moment he’d forget what he was doing. They never spend time outside S.H.I.E.L.D headquarter; different circle and no necessity to seek her… Although he began to get used to her presence for six months, with her sleeping next room to him separated by concrete wall. He just convinced himself that he did not need to look for her outside of work.

The first time they touched (other than in combat training) was the night before they left for Botswana. He was so tensed with Fury finally gave his trust. Bucky did not want to mess it up and spend hours reviewing every detail of the mission. Sharon knocked on his door with scissors and comb.

_ Her fingers were like velvet; smooth, slipping into his hair, massaging his scalp. She made him sat in front of the sink; he closed his eyes at her touch. “I’ll shorten it just a little…” he heard her say, which he didn’t reply. The stainless steel scissors moved slowly and strand by strand of hair falling onto the bathroom floor. She was humming the whole affair, the sweet sound of her calming him somehow... His shoulder-blade length hair had been with him more than a lifetime he knew. It was like a reminder of what he used to be and he understands that this is the time to forget the past. The end result was several inches shorter than he expected. But as he saw his dark locks lay on the tile floor, the cool air con breeze on his neck, and her shy smile, it felt like a heavy burden lifted off his chest. _

He remembered it perfectly like it happened just yesterday. His hand rises to touch the nape of his neck. It had grown again, soon he will need a haircut.

Then the terrifying feeling grew even more rebellious, that he _ must _ see her—which he finally did, knocking on her window at night like a miserable teenager after spending the whole day with Steve and Sam. He said repeatedly to himself that what happened in Yemen would not happen again, that he could see her and just loving her from afar… He was so naive. 

_ “What are we, Buck?” she asked him one night after they had sex. _

_ “Friends?” he managed to say, too deep in denial he could be so cruel. _

_ She put on a brave smile and snuggled even closer, torturing his already wretched mind. _

_ “Good friends.” she confirmed softly, burying her face on his chest. _

What despicable kind of friend who actually fucks his… friend?

The touch doesn’t feel like just a friend. The kiss and the sex don’t feel like a friend either. Everything feels more than that, or is this just his feeling that fools his mind? 

The conversation—thankfully—shifted quickly to the files Natasha brought. 

\---

He was lost and lonely in the room full of people. The newly finished Avengers tower was packed with agents, celebrities, and many other high ranking officials; booze and cigars are flowing freely from the open bar. The DJ played a loud music from some young singer he doesn’t know. Everyone around him was dancing like they forgot how to stand still. 

The noise and the atmosphere made him nervous, if not a little dizzy.

Bucky stood in the far end of the room, hidden beneath the shadow. From where he stood he could watch the entrance. His eyes scanned the room, stopping every few seconds at the door, looking for one particular person... So far no sighting of her.

He checked his cellphone; no text either. He was torn between texting her or not. Sam and the rest ditched him as his sullen mood dragged down their anticipation of the party, refusing to mingle. Only Steve stayed, but soon he too was pulled aside by Thor to taste some Asgardian wine.

Thirty minutes later he spotted her golden curls among the guests, and relief gushed over him like warm blanket… until he saw Cameron Klein from tech. 

The boy placed his hand on his little soldier’s slender waist, leading her to one of the vacant seats in the middle of the room. His mood instantly sank lower. He tried to cheer himself up by reminding him that he was nobody; just a friend to her, and friends are supposed to be happy if their friends are happy… aren’t they?

Well, she does look happy. 

He watched them from afar, still hidden beneath the shadows. 

She looked beautiful and the color of her dress contrasted with her pale skin, making her stood out among the crowd. He grimly noted Cameron also couldn’t stop looking at his little soldier. The guy dressed neatly in shirt and bow tie. 

_ Right on, Cam, trying to impress my girl. _

_ Wait, what? _

_ Sharon is not his. _

The vibranium fingers twitched at the sight, recognizing anger building inside him. Bucky looked down to make sure his gloves were attached to cover the prosthetic hand. Thankfully it did. He doesn’t want any attention about this Winter Soldier thing. He even secretly hated the name. It brought him painful memories he wanted to forget. 

_ He was a ghost; the ghost story that most communities doesn’t believe he exist. The ones who do call him The Winter Soldier. The new fist of HYDRA. _

His flesh hand was sweaty. He is not that person anymore.

_ I am not a ghost. _

He saw some officials approaching his corner and quickly dipped his head. The Battle of Triskelion still fresh in their minds, as does in his... HYDRA had put its agents into S.H.I.E.L.D and on that fateful day they almost succeeded in taking over S.H.I.E.L.D. Now he better not attracts their hate even more. Fury and Steve had their shares of it when they took him in. 

Carefully, he slide out of his corner and walked towards Sharon. The tech geek was nowhere to be seen.

“Hey,” Sharon beamed up to him as he flopped down on the couch next to her. “I was looking for you.”

“Did you?” his reply came out harsher than he intended. “You looked happy with him, teasing the green boy with that little dress of yours.”

“Why, if I didn’t know you any better I’d think you’re jealous.”

He crosses his arms in front of his chest, “I’m not. I was being considerate of my friend’s wellbeing.” _ The lie he told himself, too. _“Aren’t you cold?” he quipped, looking at her bare shoulders.

He knew every freckles on her body, having visiting them from time to time. It spread like hundreds tiny dots from the shoulders to her breasts.

“Thank you, Buck,” she flashes him the sweetest smile. “I can take care of myself.”

_ Let’s go home, _he wanted to say, the words nearly spoken before Cameron came back with two glass of champagne. He looked at the skinny guy with disdain as Cameron handed Sharon one of the glass. 

“Cheers!” 

Before Sharon could react, Bucky snatched the glass from her hand and gulped down the golden liquid.

“Hey, Buck!” Cameron protested.

“It’s _ Sergeant Barnes _to you,” 

The poor guy was clearly taken aback by the venom in his voice before bobbing his head up and down submissively. Sharon threw him a reprimand look but Bucky looked away. 

“Here, you can have mine.” Cameron held out his glass but for the second time Bucky snatched it before Sharon even extended her hand. He drank the liquid in one swift gulp to dry his anger.

Cameron looked incredulous but wisely decided not to pursue the matter further and turned his attention to his little soldier. His face turned as red as a tomato and Bucky felt a bit sorry for him.

“Thor and the rest are having this game lifting his hammer. Do you want to see?”

“That’s stupid, Cam,” he chimed in uninvited, cocking his head. “And clearly pointless! Only Thor can lift the hammer.”

Sharon looked at him and mouthed _ STOP. _He was far too gone annoyed by the mere presence of this little Cameron Klein from tech to hold back.

“Do you think mortals like you, which is just a mere human, could lift his hammer? You better think twice, Cam. I used to think you’re smart.”

“That’s it, Bucky!” Sharon shouted and stood up. “C’mon, Cam, I really want to see this game. And you,” she pointed her finger at him, “don’t bother to see the stupid game.”

“What the hell, I won’t.” he scoffed.

Guilt slipped into his heart as Sharon pulled Cameron from the table. A laughter came behind him and he turned to see Sam roaring at him.

“Bucky you asshole. What did Cameron do to you?” Sam shook his head in disbelief. “I almost believed you made him peed in his pants.”

_ Maybe it’d be better if he did, _Bucky silently cursed.

It was a long, loud and agonizing party. He sat at the bar with Bruce, sipping beer while occasionally glancing into the corner where Sharon, Cameron and several agents were boisterously talking about something. More than twice Cam’s hand stroked Sharon’s shoulder, or leaning too close to his liking, making him understand why Bruce always practice breathing to prevent the Hulk from taking over. A minute longer and he will not be able to stop himself. He’d blow away his own secret.

“Look at my two friends, the life of the party,” Tony Stark appeared out of nowhere, ordering martini from the bartender. “It is an insult if you two refuse to smile and mingle.”

Without saying a word Bucky slide down from the barstool and walked out of the party. He could hear Tony grumbled behind his back. “Wow, can you imagine how boring it is to get a mission alone with him?” he said to anyone who wants to hear.

Bucky doesn’t. He needs to find a place that is quiet enough to calm down. 

Sharon found him later, sulking outside the hall away from the crowd. The place was rather hidden from view, few feet away near the emergency exit at the end of the floor. He was brooding alone, content with his own mind, looking out the glass window into thirty floors below.

“What the hell was that?” she asked as a greeting.

“What the hell was what?” he asked her back, trying to keep his face neutral as he turned to face her.

“You and Cam. That was mean, Bucky.”

“I saw your face; you didn’t want the drink, so I drank it.”

“Bucky…” she was ready to scold him, he knew.

“Look at me in the eye and tell me if I was wrong. You didn’t want the goddamn drink.”

Sharon opened her mouth, trying to say something but no word came out. She closed it again, biting her lip. 

“Sorry I was mean to your boy.” he mumbled his apology, already feeling awful. He is not a bully and will not start being one.

“It is to Cam you should apologize.” 

When he didn’t answer, she eyeing his black t-shirt under the brown leather jacket. “Would it be cliché if we matched our clothes a little?” she asked, teasing. 

Bucky shrugged. He pairs the t-shirt with black jeans and black tactical boots. His casual attire. 

“I hate Stark and his lavish parties.” He leaned to the glass window, looking to the glimmering lights below. 

“I heard you used to love parties.”

Bucky smiled at her. “Did you read that on my profile?”

”Steve told me. Girls swooned over Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes of the 107th Infantry Regiment.”

”But the one I want doesn’t swoon over me. She swoons over some cute geek tech guy with bow tie shirt.”

”Cameron is not a geek,” she chuckled. “And I don’t swoon over him.”

He was standing before her so fast. When their eyes locked, he could see his shadow on her pupils. She is so trusting, it hurts.

“Are you his, little soldier?” he asked quietly. 

“No,” she whispered. 

The vanilla fragrance filled his nostrils and he found himself breathe in the familiar scent deeply, floating in clouds. The weird, terrifying feeling comes back again. 

Every ounce of his breath was like taken from his lungs; there were stars in his eyes. He realized he keep falling in love with her, each time harder than the last. That is what makes him so afraid.

Bucky pulled her bumping to his chest. Her warm breath slipped under the collar of his jacket, as he took her in his arms.

_ Let me feel it one more time. _

_ Just. One. More. Time... _

Their lips danced tentatively at first even though they know each other’s lips well; every curve and every line. Deep inside his head he realized how weird it was to kiss your _ friend _so passionately, feeling the little sparks and goosebumps every time they touch. He shouldn’t kiss her, shouldn’t love her, he should have run when the urge to kiss her become overwhelming back then in their hotel room in Yemen… yet he couldn’t resist. And he lied to himself, then and now.

“Bucky,” she sighed, whether to reprimand him or allowing him to go further.

His hand crept slowly underneath her thin garment. Her skin feels delicate under his rough one. Bucky slowly traced her waist with his index and middle finger, caressing the softness, until he found her breast.

He made the circular movement, instantly making her feet goes weak. Before she fell he propped himself up against her, supporting her weight. His other hand kneaded on her buttcheek. He was in no hurry as he pushed her body plush against the wall. He kissed her again, devouring her lips, her tongue; the lipstick she wore smeared evenly to him. He loved kissing her he couldn’t stop.

She moved to sink her teeth onto his neck, kissing him there, biting into him. He groaned. 

Bucky could feel her lips on his neck forming a smile as her tongue licked the bite mark and began to suck. 

“That’s better, little soldier.” he mumbled his praise.

She must have felt his manhood already hard as their legs intertwined. Her eyes fluttered shut as his left arm—the metal one—started to guide her moving against his thigh. Soon they started to move rhythmically, dry humping each other, and he felt her getting wetter. The underwear she wears beneath the dress quickly gave up to her juices, seeping into his jeans.

“Buck,”

“Hm?”

“There are cameras, especially in the Avengers tower.” she reminded him, yet never pulled away.

“Not here. I triple checked.”

“Oh?” she asked, cupping his face to look into his eyes.

He bent and pulled her for a kiss.

“I was looking for a blind spot, just in case I can get you alone.” he smirked between kisses. 

His mouth left her lips as Bucky started to nibble at her neck. Carefully, so that he won’t leave any visible marks. He gently pulled down one of the straps of her green dress, exposing her left breast. She wears no bra and he moan appreciatively. 

Bucky lowered his head to suck on the nipple, all the while his left hand never cease attention on her butt cheek. Her breasts have grown swollen and sensitive.

He liked to tease her; the vibranium hand pushed her ass up and down, making her crotch rub against his thigh. The friction of her panties and his muscular thigh started to build pleasurable vibrations. He knew it threatened to push her to the brink of climax. She tugs at his jacket, shuddered by lust. This petting won’t satisfy both of them. 

“Bucky?” she whimpered, reaching up to his thick brown hair. 

“Mmm…”

“Please, please, Buck,”

“Please _ what _, little soldier?”

“Please fuck me,” and with that he lifted her dress to the waist. She heard the clicking sound of his belt being undone, the zipper pulled down. She was more than ready; she bucked her hips to welcome the familiar touch of him. Her panties was torn mercilessly when he intended to pull it off. He groaned his apologies as he discarded the torn wet G-string onto the marble floor.

Then out of nowhere anger slipped into his chest, making him short of breath. 

_ Don’t leave me, _ he wanted to say. _ Love me. _

She felt the tip of his cock in her opening but when she tried to lower herself he held her back. Confused, she opened her mouth to protest only for Bucky to shut her down with his lips. His tongue sneaked behind her ear and sucked on the sensitive skin. She moaned harder. 

“When he touched you, you should’ve broken his hand. Or should I?” _ Gods, he hated himself for saying that but he couldn’t help himself. _“What will he say if he sees you like this? Whimpering, begging to be fucked?”

She started to wriggle in his grasp, offended by his words.

_ What kind of friend is he? A hateful, jealous one, _he scolded himself.

“Do you want to be fucked by that tech guy, little soldier?” he mocked. The grip of his left hand on her ass grew tighter and possessive. His right hand grabbed her neck. He cruelly raised her body and began rubbing his shaft to her folds, making sure it riding on her clit. Teasing her without giving what she wants.

“No!” she cried out her frustration, “Bucky!” Nails dug into his neck but he didn’t even flinch. 

“What do you want, little soldier?”

“You!” she almost sob, the aching was too much. She needs him to fill her now and that was the truth. To his surprise she kissed him, fiercely than ever, fingers slipped on his scalp and clenching at his hair.

The way she kiss made him thinks she might love him too.

_ The truth I wanted to believe in, _Bucky thought.

The wetness she produces made it easy for him to enter her with one hard thrust. He fucked her there, standing by the giant window sill, just around the corner from where the party took place. He could hear the music and the laughter. She moans and panting to his lips. The thrill that someone might found them, multiplied by how their bodies react to each other making her soon shook with pleasure. 

If anyone takes a wrong turn in the hallway they’d easily spotted them; bodies entwined, him pinning her to the wall. Her dress hiked up to her waist and his bare bottom plastered clearly to view.

“Ssh, little soldier, you’d awake ghosts,” but he didn’t make any effort to shut her up. 

Instead, he thrust into her harder and faster. She clung to his neck, almost in choking grip, while he propped himself up against her, fucking her senseless. The louder she moans, the more aroused he became. She was so wet he felt the juice trickling to his thigh.

Soon her muscles contracting around his cock; she arched her back as her climax took her violently. He loved the way she shout his name during her orgasm, maybe the sole reason it became his bedroom mission to make her cum whenever he could. 

The milking sensation became too much that soon he followed her close after giving three short, hard thrusts. He stayed inside her after that, refusing to pull out. They pressed their foreheads together, gasping for air.

"Let me take you home." 

He watched her pulled away, making him slide out of her_. _She smoothed up her green dress with trembling hands and bent down to collect her torn black G-string.

"I can't just ditch Cam." 

Bucky seized the panties from her hand. It was still damp from her arousal.

"Of course you can, little soldier." he said, shoving the tiny garment inside his pocket.

“Bucky, I don’t know what happen to you, but tonight you’re being mean. I don’t like being friends with mean people.”

“I’m sorry.” he bit back his pride. “It wasn’t a nice thing to say.”

“Damn it, it wasn’t.”

He fixed his jeans and buckled his belt. There was a wet spot where he had rubbed Sharon’s crotch on his thigh.

“I will apologize to Cam.” he offered. “I was being rude to him anyway.”

“Bucky, give me back my panties.”

“Just ditch Cam.” he stubbornly say.

“I can’t. Buck, you said it yourself that we’re friends. Well, not the kind friendship you and Steve obviously shares, but we’re still _ good friends _, aren’t we? And pretty good at it, right?”

She was standing in front of him, glaring. Her hair unruly after their love making and her lips clearly swollen from his kisses, the face flushed red.

_ Tell her that you are a moron. Tell her you wanted her all along. _

“Yeah?” his voice was hoarse. “Good friends.”

“I think I better stay in the party. Cam offered me a ride home too, don’t worry.”

He wanted to yell at her and take her home, but he already blew his chances away long time ago.

Sam is right about him, after all.

He _ is _an asshole.


	5. Yellow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yellow, a song from Coldplay.

The fatigue come and goes. Her body ached, drained like she participated in a triathlon and she is drowsy all the time. It makes her began to have difficulty concentrating. There were times when nausea attacks her in frustrating times; in the gym, in the dining hall (mostly in the dining hall), in the middle of briefings... fortunately didn’t make her vomit, but enough to make her stop what she was doing. 

The weird thing, beside cherry lollipops she now carries around, is she couldn’t survive without vegetable pizza and sour cream. To her horror she practically devoured three boxes of it and a huge jar of sour cream by herself last night. 

At night she woke up with Bucky in her mind, hoping to find him beside her on the bed. Though of course he was not there. More than once she thought of calling him, aware he’d come if she asks him to… but it was really unusual if she told him she just wanted to sleep in his arms. Their relationship is not like that, Bucky made sure of it himself. He doesn’t even know she is pregnant. 

Well, yet.

Bucky was not in his best mood after Tony’s party. She was almost certain he avoided her in the compound, being more aloof than usual.

What was little relief was when Cameron told her that Bucky pulled him into an empty elevator to apologize for being rude at the party. At least he had the decency to regret it. They have not talking for six days since the party. She watched him from a distance; no smile, no greetings, no late night visiting again whatsoever. They were never in not-speaking term. Worse yet, they didn’t even fight. He just suddenly kept a distance. She was lying to herself if she doesn’t hurt by it.

He had left her in the party, in that empty hallway with his cum stickily trickling down her thigh. If she closed her eyes she could still feel his rough kiss on her lips, the hot breath around her neck... It made her returned to the party in semi-conscious state; cold and lonesome in a room full of people. There was no Bucky Barnes among them.

The NATs were afraid to take part in his class as Bucky seemed determined to put them in _ real _ battlefield combat. Just like agents, NATs are divided into levels during their trainings. Once she saw him drilling level-6 NATs in using sharp weapons. Combat knife is one of his weapons of choice. He didn’t hold back. 

Before long a janitor or two would be present at the sideline to wipe the blood off the mattress. Fury was not impressed. If the talk was true, Bucky was the only person who overpowered Captain America during hand-to-hand combat duels back then when Bucky was under HYDRA’s influence. The NATs were soon dropping like flies.

Well, thinking of Bucky only drain to her already aching body and it doesn’t do her minds the ease it needed. 

Field agents are given mission based on compatibility between appointed agents, required expertise, and most of all their emotional and physical endurance. So far her pregnancy made her unable to train as usual in the gym. She still supported a flat stomach, thank Goodness, but the presence of the baby drained her energy long before she even donned her trainers properly. 

Soon it won’t be good for her. There’s also tri-monthly tests every agents have to take; the blood test, drugs, urine… all basic medical check-up to make sure they meet the requirements. She knew she’ll fail her next medical check-up. Pregnant field agents are definitely a no-no.

She was with Natasha and Phil when she saw him again that afternoon. 

Bucky sat at one of the tables at the end of the dining hall with Sam, sulking as ever over his lunch tray, hand across his chest. To her surprise Bucky looked up and for a second their eyes met from the opposite corner of the hall. It feels like time has stopped ticking, the air sucked dry from the room. The way he looked at her sending thousand butterflies in her belly flutters wildly. 

_ I missed him, _she realized, with lump in her throat. Yesterday they passed each other in the hallway. Cameron first saw him approaching, but when she greeted him Bucky looked away.

She averted her eyes, trying to focus on sandwich choices in front of her.

“Captain Rogers!” Phil’s voice raised an octave whenever he was around Captain America. Steve was standing behind them in line, smiling. “Care to join us for lunch?”

“Actually it’d be my pleasure, Phil. Why don’t you guys come over to our table?” Steve pointed to Bucky and Sam’s table. “I need to talk about this new weapon developed by the tech division. Stark has been so generous in the project.”

_ Oh, for God’s sake, no, _she groaned inwardly to Steve’s kind invitation.

She couldn’t just sit across Bucky, eating sandwich and pretend nothing happened between them. Not so close like that, surrounded by the most dangerous spy in the world and best agents in the continent.

“I guess I’ll just eat somewhere else. Have a great chat, guys.” 

“No, no, there are enough chairs.” Steve replied casually unaware of her distress.

“Yeah, come. It’d be fun.” Nat smirked. She hated the smirk; it made her nervous and her palms sweaty. As much as she loved Nat, she cannot forget that Black Widow could read a person easily. The last thing she wants was her secret emblazoned on her face for all to see.

“Thank you for the offer. I’ll need fresh air, though.” she flashed them a smile and turned her heels toward the door. She wouldn’t stand long in the dining hall, anyway. The smell was too much. Just by standing in line to pick up a simple sandwich already made her stomach turned upside down. Besides, sitting by herself in the business park accompanied by strangers is more appalling at the moment. She can enjoy the zephyr, sunshine on her skin, no funny feelings to bother her. 

The park is right in the middle of S.H.I.E.L.D compound. There were not many visitors that afternoon. A wooden bench was placed under a big oak tree just by the park’s pathway, sheltered enough thanks to the branches. She sat down and began to unwrap her sandwich. Two people in NATs uniforms were chatting not far from where she was sitting. They have coffees in their hands and soon walking away towards the main building.

Being near Bucky has made her feel weird. She doesn’t know whether it was the hormones speaking or else. They had been careful so far and what they did in the hallway during the party was not so discreet. She is angry at herself for not being able to stop wanting him. She should have been smart enough not to sleep with him in the first place; it only made her fall deeper for him.

Angrily, she took a voracious bite of the sandwich.

_ Blrrghh, _she spat it right away into a tissue paper. 

Nausea hits her as soon as the sandwich touched her tongue, adding helplessness to her misery. She swiftly took the cherry lollipop from her pocket and sucked on the sweet, sugar coated candy. 

She craved for another vegetable pizza with extra olives and sour cream. Maybe she could make a quick errand to Pete’s Pizza... They’re just around the corner of the headquarter, nothing too far away. She hasn’t been able to swallow anything but the candy since morning.

“Hey.”

She didn’t have to turn around to see who’s speaking. She’d recognized his voice anywhere, the spicy and masculine smell of him reached her nose when Bucky took a seat next to her on the bench. He always smells so good even when he doesn’t wear any cologne.

_ So much effort to stay away, _ she mused.

“Cameron didn’t take you out?”

“Where?” she shot back, glancing at him. He was already staring.

Bucky shrugged. “Lunch. Somewhere.”

She snorted, “No.”

“What a jerk.”

“You’re being mean again. To me, nonetheless.” she raised an eyebrow to him.

“Alright, apologies, Ma’am.” he said sheepishly.

“Why are you here?”

“You practically ran away from the dining hall.” it was rather a statement than question.

She continued sucking on her lollipop. 

“I said I’m sorry,” Bucky cleared his throat. “Stop being angry at me.”

“I am not.” _ I am angry with myself for wanting you, for us being friends. For loving you. _

“You don’t look so healthy. You’re looking rather pale.” he examined, her heart racing under his intense gaze.

“It’s too hot under the sun. Why you even care?” _ Damnit hormones, stop it. _

“You’re my friend, of course I fucking care.”

She stood up from the bench, gathering her belongings. “I will see you around, Bucky.”

“What—wait,” he was clearly shocked by her response. “I said I was sorry. I meant it.”

“You’re avoiding me.” she wanted to curse herself as soon as the sentence left her mouth. She sounded bitter and clingy, like a nagging girlfriend giving him a hard time. It’s just that she is not his girlfriend. She is just… what? A friend? _Fuck buddy, apparently._

Bucky’s eyes soften. He tugs at her wrist, asking her silently to sit down again. Half-heartedly, she obliged. 

“Look, I thought you and Cam were something… or going to be something, okay,” he admitted. “You spent so much time with him recently. Hell, every time I saw you there was always him. I am sorry.” 

“Flash news, we are not.” 

Bucky scowled. “Well if you do, make sure he treats you well. If not, lemme know. I can teach him a lesson or two. Maybe three, who knows.”

She smacked his bicep. “Oh, stop it!”

“I thought you’re more into Steve than Cam.” Bucky acknowledged. “Hey, stop laughing.” he added when she almost choked on her lollipop for laughing so hard she got teary eyes. “Everyone loves Steve and I was invisible. It was like a nightmare. I used to be the handsome one.”

“Not everyone I suppose.” 

“Oh, yeah?” he teased, but smiling all the same.

Sharon was relieved to be able to laugh with him again. The burden in her chest the past week seemed evaporates to nowhere as she gazed into his smiling face. 

_ Weird, weird, weird, _she thought to herself. It was strange with just one smile and she could forget her annoyance at him the past week. She really is a goner.

“Can’t hit Steve, but if he disappoints you I can give him a good one.”

“First Cam, now Steve? What are you, a dating agency?” she laughed.

“For you, it must be the best.”

“Thank you, Buck. It’s good to hear you have my back.”

“I always will, little soldier.”

There was warmth radiating from his mere presence, so confident and fragile at the same time. And those puppy eyes… Sharon exhales softly. _ I will never get tired of it. _

“So you’re not angry at me anymore, aren’t you?” he asked quietly. 

His dark hair has grown passed his adam’s apple, tousled by the wind. 

“No,” she found herself whispering. She reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. “Your hair has grown long again.” 

“I waited for you to cut it.”

It became their routine, with Bucky prefers her to cut his hair rather than someone else or doing it himself. She is always happy to do it for him. It was like an exclusive activity owned by her, having Bucky trusted her enough to do it many times. 

“So… can I come over again?” he asked. “I’m afraid I’d stumble upon Cam, seriously.”

“Can I forbid you?”

He blinked. “You know you can always say no…”

“Please come.”

“Tonight?”

“Tonight.”

She tucked another strand of dark hair behind his ear, but didn’t pull her hand right away. 

They were not alone in the park and she knew that sooner or later she had to withdraw. Yet there she was, caressing his ear and he sighed without any resistance.

The sky was crystal clear. The wind blew through the trees around the park, enveloping them with an odd chill. A group of NATs jogged passed them but they didn’t pay any attention. She gazed into Bucky’s eyes, unblinking, thinking how the blue of his eyes reminded her of New York sky in the summer… Something inside her wanting to be in his arms again. 

The fact that he closed his eyes and tilted his head towards her finger didn’t make it easier.

_ Damn hormones and for being discreet. _

\---

She was at the pharmacy again, stopping by after work because her nausea was getting worse. The young pharmacist remembered her from a week ago and kindly greeted her as soon as he spotted her nearing the counter.

“How are you feeling today?” he asked, smiling as he put a box of cherry lollipops she asked on the counter. 

“A full day of nausea and now I’m exhausted.” she chuckled. “I wonder if you can recommend any over-the-counter treatment for this nausea?”

“Sure. You can try this to help with the morning sickness.” he put another white box on the counter. “Have you seen a doctor?”

“Uh, no.” she admitted, feeling embarrassed. She has not thought about it, too caught up with her plans and intention of telling Bucky which failed miserably. 

“You should consider seeing an obstetrician soon.”

“I will. Thanks.”

She paid the pharmacist for her candies and medicine, gave the man one last smile before exiting the store. It was already passed 8 PM; her calves started to ache again as she walked on the pavement although the distance to her apartment was not far. She felt stupid for not calling for delivery and instead decided to stop by Pete’s Pizza and bought two large box. Coupled with the large jar of sour cream and some groceries, now she is carrying a handful load in both hands. She wondered when the fatigue began to diminish. If only she could take coffee… Yeah, maybe she should see an obstetrician soon. 

She turned in the corner of the street where her apartment located, when suddenly a pair of strong hands took the weight off her arms. She gasped, thinking the worst, when she saw Bucky’s face under his black running cap. 

“Bucky! How long have you standing there?”

“Long enough to see you struggling down the street.” he grinned. “Is this for me? I’m always in the mood for pizza.” he sniffed the pizza box.

“It’s not pepperoni.”

“It’s not?” his face fell.

She giggled at his reaction. “It’s vegetable pizza with extra olives and it’s all mine. I bought ramen, though. You can cook it yourself.”

“How can you be so cruel?” Bucky groaned. “I thought you’re my best friend!”

“That’s funny. I thought Steve is your best friend.”

Bucky grinned. “He’s not here right now and he never buys pizza.”

They reached her building and took the stairs to her floor. It was an old apartment complex from the 50s which got renovated recently; the reason Steve Rogers—an old soul as she is—took residence for awhile. She was assigned by Fury to stay there to oversee Steve after he had just woken up from ice. Once Steve moved out she decided to keep hers and moved permanently. 

She had fallen in love with the red brick used on the exterior of the building and the ivory white paint along its hallway. The space she rented is not spacious, but comfortable. She didn’t repaint the walls but used the original ivory color. The one bedroom space held two large windows; one in her bedroom, another in the kitchen. Every morning she loves waking up to warm sunshine on her face. 

Bucky helped her put away the groceries, having had memorized where she kept her stuff around the apartment. She let him digging through the shopping bags, saving the one with her candies and prenatal meds. Thank God she already torn and trash every label from the bottles so he wouldn’t know what's inside if he happen to stumbled upon them. 

“I’ll go shower, okay?” she yelled from the bedroom, where her bathroom is connected. 

“Can I have one slice?” he shouted back from the kitchen.

“Just one!”

A second later she heard him cursed, “Goddamn spinach!”

She couldn’t help but laugh as she turn on the shower tap. “I told you it’s vegetable pizza with extra olives!”

Fifteen minutes later when she emerged from the bedroom, hair still damp on her scalp, Bucky was sitting by the Ikea dining table. Two beer cans and her pizza were prepared on the table, along with a bowl of sour cream.

“Is that mine?” Bucky asked, glancing with furrowed eyebrows to her t-shirt. She was wrapped up completely in the white cotton shirt. 

“Yeah.” she sat down in front of him, helping herself with the pizza.

“That t-shirt is way too big for you.”

“I don’t care. It’s comfortable.” _ It smells like you, too. _

“That’s my favorite. Give it back.” he said with mischievous glint on his face.

“It’s mine now. Your own fault for leaving it behind.”

She dipped the pizza into the sour cream and took a hearty bite of it, the one and only food she craved the last few days. It feels good to be able to chew food without feeling nauseous. In a short time she had finished half a bowl of sour cream and four slice of pizza.

“You have a scary appetite, y’know?” Bucky was visibly shaken as he sipped on his beer.

“I’m starving!” she protested, cackling a muffled laugh.

“Hey,” Bucky leaned closer. “You’ve got cream there…”

The sour cream dripped from her chin and onto the table.

“Oh no, did I disgust you?” she cringed apologetically, trying to locate a napkin.

“You disgust me in the best kind of ways.” he smiled and handed her the napkin. 

She crinkled her nose at that. “I’m sorry; just get into the bathroom I’ll catch up soon, okay?”

“Yeah, sure. Take your time.” he chuckled. “And that shirt you wear, consider that as the payment.”

Before she could muster a reply, Bucky stood up to take off his jacket. The plain grey t-shirt he wore underneath followed soon after, until he only wears his jeans. She almost choked on her pizza. He has the most adorable muscled abs she ever seen. Which was weird, because she have seen _ many _abs; Steve’s, Clint’s, Sam’s, even Vision’s (okay, that one was awkward). Yet Bucky’s stood out among them. No matter how often she saw his cloth less body she was always stunned, in a good and pleasant way.

The beautiful body was adorned with many scars, all of them old ones. If she was caught looking at it he immediately frowns and shuts down.

_ “The serum doesn’t make you immune to mortal wounds.” he told her when she dared to ask. _

A long jagged scar snaked down from his underarm to his pelvic bone; someone managed to gnaw him with a serrated knife but Bucky survived the wound with such depth and size. Some scars on his body were not tended properly and slightly discolored an odd mixture of bright white and light pink. She counted four bullet marks on his chest, the surgical scars now leaving only small disfigurement almost visible to the eye. Not to mention the scar tissue forming in his left shoulder where the vibranium meet the flesh… 

He used to wince whenever she touched him there, trailing the scar tissue with her lips.

_ “Don’t,” he’d say, “Not there.” _

_ She saw the brokenness in his face; his shame and anger… realizing he was afraid she won’t want him again. He was so wrong. She always wanted him. _

When he stalked out of the kitchen she saw his bare back covered in many silvery pink snakes; a reminder of how brutal his handler was when he was held by HYDRA. Her heart cried to him upon seeing the scars. A miracle that he survived all the wounds he suffered on battlefields and rigorous training grounds. 

He had fought back and it took HYDRA a solid twenty years to broke, manipulated and trains him as the Winter Soldier.

She swallowed the rest of the pizza and hurriedly washed her hands before following Bucky into the bathroom. He had casually sat on the small swivel chair she already put in front of the sink. The low waist jeans he wears didn’t hide the tip of the underpants he was wearing. It was distracting.

Bucky turned, smiling the kind of smile that made her heart skip a beat. 

“Done eating? Can’t let that sauce drip to my hair.”

She rolled her eyes. 

Still smiling, Bucky closed his eyes as soon as her fingers slipped behind his hair. She parted the hair into sections before cutting it with scissor to the desired length. Then using clippers she began to shave, starting from the bottom and moving upwards. 

“You smelled nice.” she commented, sniffing his fluffy hair. 

“Yeah? Thanks to your shampoo.” a boyish grin appeared on his handsome face.

“Wow, that’s why I feel like I’ve smelled it somewhere. Turned out from my own bathroom.”

“You know I’m too lazy to try different variants of shampoo. It’s just too many. I like that smell of yours so that’s what I bought.”

“Try what Tony used. He smelled nice, too.”

Bucky tilted his head. “And how did you know? You sniff him?”

“He’s like a walking perfume!”

Bucky snorted. 

“Stop moving your head.” she told him.

For a moment there was only the soft buzz of the electronic clippers between them. She felt him looking at her from the mirror above the sink as she starts humming to Coldplay. The electric clippers went a few passes at the nape of Bucky’s neck to make sure she got all the hairs neatly. 

“I can’t believe you wanted to be a singer, a hairstylist, and now you’re working as agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.” he contemplated; the corner of his mouth twisted to form a faint smile.

“Wild, isn’t it?” she winked at his reflection in the mirror, combing Bucky’s now short hair. “What about you? Didn’t you have lots of aspiration when you were little?”

“No,” he responded glumly. “It was… a different time. I knew I always wanted to join the army.”

_ Of course you are. _

“It’s done.” She put away the scissor and clippers to admire her work. “You looked rather handsome in that haircut, Sergeant.”

“Well, thanks to you, little soldier.”

Bucky spun on the chair and pulled her into his lap. She giggled when his lips found hers, sucking on the bottom lip lightly.

His hand crept behind her t-shirt, touching the breast. As much as she wanted him, her body doesn’t cooperate tonight. She cringed when instead of the usual pleasure she felt a sharp of pain. Her breasts were sore and swollen, too sensitive to his touch.

“Bucky, not now.” she sighed with regret, moving away.

“Are you okay?” he looked alarmed, instantly pulled his hands off her. “I knew you’re looking rather pale this afternoon.”

She rolled down from his lap, stumbled on jelly legs. Bucky caught her hips. Concern was arising from his blue eyes. He lifted her off the floor with one quick motion and carried her into the bedroom.

“I still need to vacuum the bathroom floor—,” she mumbled.

“Leave it.”

“But—,”

“I said leave it. I’ll do that for you.” He put her down onto the bed carefully. “Your body is warmer than usual,” he remarked, somehow sounded irritated. “Where do you keep your Tylenol?”

“Bucky, I’m fine.” she was rather amused by his reaction.

He seemed unconvinced but chose to be quiet and return to the bathroom. She heard the blaring vacuum cleaner machine being turned on. Ten minutes later he came out, still didn’t say a word as he took the vacuum into the kitchen. There was sound of cabinets opening and closing, the drawers being pulled out as if he was looking for something. 

She wanted to walk up to him but she felt weak and exhausted all over again.

“Bucky?” she called to him.

He immediately went to her side. There was a tablet of Tylenol and a glass of water in his hand. 

“Found it.” he said proudly, placing the glass and pill on the bedside table.

“I’m not sick.”

“Your temperature says the opposite.” Bucky put a hand on her forehead, gliding slowly to the side of her neck to feel the pulse.

“Can I just get a hug?”

“Sure,” he climbed onto the bed and positioned himself behind her. His flesh arm pulled her closer. It felt safe and warm with him. “Are you sure you’re okay? Don’t go to work tomorrow if you’re not feeling well.”

_ Tell him, _she told herself.

“I’ve something to tell you,” 

She was scared; all worst possibilities crossed her mind like blazing bullets. _ What if he gets angry? What if he gets scared and looks at her with disgust? _

_ Will he feel trapped? _

_ What if she lost Bucky forever, never heard his carefree laugh and seeing those eyes again? _

_ What if he hates her because she was so reckless? _

_ He doesn’t love me like I love him. _

The thoughts were corroding her confidence. Her heart was racing and she curled up into a ball, pulling her knees to her chest. Bucky sensed her mood and his arms grew tighter around her. The flesh hand sneaked inside her t-shirt to cover her belly with his warm palm. 

Unbeknown to him, he was caressing their baby. 

_ Tell him. Tell him now! _

“Buck,”

“Hmm?” Bucky snuggled to her neck.

_ I’m having your baby, _the sentence was already at the tip of her tongue. 

“Something in your mind, little soldier?”

She couldn’t do it; _ what if she loses him? _

At that moment she couldn’t bear it. She wanted more time with him before its gone. She hugged Bucky’s arm around her waist.

_ Just let me have this moment, _she told herself to justify her silence. 

She leaned to him again, her back against his torso, wrapped in Bucky’s embrace. 

“You are having period cramps, aren’t you?”

She didn’t have the heart to reply.

“Feeling better?” his hand still spreads warmth on her stomach.

She could only nod.

Bucky’s pager beeped out loud from the kitchen and he groaned. 

\---

The lights above her head was glowing yellow, making her a little drowsy. The room smelled of disinfectant, as did every part of the clinic. It was decorated richly in pink and cream with posh sofas and plasma TV. There were flowers, open pantry, beautiful paintings and soft music in the waiting room. She had chosen the private clinic after several thoughts, mainly to minimize the possibility of her meeting with people she knows. 

As soon as Bucky boarded the Quinjet with Steve and Fury, she called the clinic and scheduled an appointment. He won’t be home for few days so it’d be safe for her to see an obstetrician. She had just taken a blood test which came out good (no HIV, no hepatitis, no rubella, okay-ish blood pressure and diabetes-free) and had the doc explained things that can be expected from a pregnancy. He is a middle aged plump man with strawberry blond hair named dr Donald Meland. 

“I’ll need to inform you that it’s okay if you crave certain food. Just make sure it was cooked properly. You’re not restricted from sex; some women wanted more sex during pregnancies, others tend to lost all passion. These are normal. You’re allowed to exercise, as long as you have done it regularly before you get pregnant. No extreme movement, though. I believe you understand, Miss Carter.”

“Yes, doctor. Perfectly. Thank you.”

The nurse then made her lay on her back on the exam bed. 

“Try to relax,” the nurse reminded her as she folds the hem of her blouse up, exposing the stomach. 

Sharon realized she had been holding her breath. 

Dr Meland covered her belly with a thin layer of cold translucent gel, before putting the ultrasound stick on it. 

“Ready?” he asked.

“Yes.”

The machine purred softly as black and white image began to appear on the screen. 

“Ah, there you are.” The doc smiled.

“Is it…?”

“The baby, yes,” he confirmed, smiling wider as he spun the stick to the other side of her belly. “She looks healthy. By the size of it, you’re almost nine weeks pregnant.”

“Am I?” she was still stunned, looking at the screen. 

The fetus has developed distinct facial features; she could see the head, tiny arms and even wiggling legs… Every time she breathes in, the baby moves in tune with her breath. If it feels surreal when she found out she’s pregnant, now seeing the baby moving inside her is exceptional. She had never consumed with such awe.

“Do we already know the sex…?”

Dr Meland shook his head, “I like to refer a baby as _ ‘she’ _before we know for sure of the sex. We’ll find out at sixteen weeks, at least.”

“Well, she is wonderful,” she whispered.

“Do you want to hear the heartbeat?”

“Heartbeat?” she repeated stupidly, her eyes locked on the screen to her little baby.

“Yes.”

The doc clicked something in the machine and a moment later there was a soft, thumping sound.

_ Thud. Thud. Thud. _

“She has got a strong heartbeat already.” dr Meland said, smiling.

How could she think of giving up the baby to someone else? Those heartbeats are amazing. The image of her baby was amazing, telling the world that she is there, inside of her. A tiny life Bucky and she created. 

Her eyes were blurred by tears. She tried to blink them away and refocused on the screen in front of her.

_ Thud. Thud. Thud. _

Indeed, a strong heartbeat. 

The emotion she felt was overwhelming, spreading evenly from her chest to her toes. It was better than the smell of her mother’s freshly baked apple pie and warmer than Bucky’s embrace. Better than sleeping on fresh sheet or feeling the sunshine on her face… better than any feeling she ever felt. What she feels now is second to none. Incomparable. Marvelous.

She was crying before she knew it.

_ Hello, Jellybean. _

_ I’m your momma. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for being with me so far in this!  
i'm going to bali for a week and i cannot bring my laptop.  
i will update soon after i get back :(  
xx


	6. Live to Rise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Live to Rise, a song from Soundgarden  


“I’ve got two news; the good and the bad.”

“Bad one first,” Steve said.

“They know you’re coming. You’ll need to swim to the shore.”

“And the good news?”

“We have oxygen tanks on board and it only ten miles to the shore.”

Steve turned to him. He shrugged. “Seems nice,” he replied indifferently. It didn’t matter to him to get into the water but he thinks of his weapons. Fire barrels won’t work properly if they were wet.

“Don’t worry about the guns.” Fury filled in, reading his unspoken concern. “Thanks to Stark, our new wetsuit will cover your weapons. They were made of nanotech.”

They were handed the wetsuit. It was light, hugging their bodies and weapons like a second skin without any obstacles. The oxygen tanks, or the rebreathers, were attached to their backs. It has rotors under the tanks making them no need to bother going against the tide. 

“Sorry Cap, this is the closest we could take you.”

The Quinjet hovered above the Mexico gulf, the rampart swung opened to the vast ocean five hundred feet below. Bucky sighed to the darkness outside the jet, wind angrily slapping his face. Steve was standing by his side, the shield strapped onto his back.

“Hey, you have to introduce that mysterious woman to me and Sam.”

“What?” Bucky yelled. The wind was blowing mercilessly and he already wears his goggles. The rubber ropes clamped his ears. 

“The woman!” Steve shouted. 

“What woman?”

Steve gave him _ the look _ before he took the plunge from the jet and into the ocean. 

“Sergeant Barnes,” Fury called and he reluctantly met the director’s eye. He threw a small device to him. “Once you find the package, press the device so we can arrange the pickup. Good luck and stay safe.”

_ Yeah, I’d need that luck, _ he said to himself.

She was on his mind when he took the leap from the jet. Her soft kisses on his cheek, how her legs intertwined to his hips, murmuring sweet noises. Her laugh was ringing from memory as he entered the water, expecting to be cold but Stark’s latest invention had a very well functioned heating system. Steve was already swimming ahead. 

He missed her already. He wanted to go home. He was so tired of fighting, but this is his path to redemption, Fury said so. At least he is fighting for the right side, isn’t he? He’s got Steve too, his best friend, the only person from his past life that survived into the new century. And where Steve put his trust, so is Bucky.

Five years ago he didn’t dare to dream of where he is right now. 

Five years ago he was a fugitive, running away from every government out of fear they’d use him for what he was made; _ a killer. _ And America was not a friendly soil, not after the destruction of The Triskelion in Washington, along with it half of the government and the nearly disbanded S.H.I.E.L.D, if it wasn’t for Fury who fought for its existence desperately. 

Hell, he even fought Steve and Sam when both of them found him in Europe. He rather die if anyone uses him as a killer but Fury promised him protection and absolution; that he will not be put on trial or hurt in whatsoever ways America had in mind. He refused to be used other than to help S.H.I.E.L.D eradicate HYDRA from the face of the earth. 

Before accepting Fury’s invitation (Steve left him to decide, either way Steve was cool with it) Bucky had one condition that he must eliminate the influence HYDRA implanted in him. He refused to be controlled again, not by S.H.I.E.L.D and not by HYDRA. He was grateful for Princess Shuri of Wakanda who managed to clean out whatever pests were in his brain. 

The last thing he wants is not being able to remember Steve or himself, forgetting what he knows only to be a killing machine. 

They reached the shore and under the disguise of the night, Steve and Bucky hid their tanks and diving gears behind a large rock. Steve held his shield in front of his chest, gesturing silently to advance. Holding his Colt M4 Carbine, Bucky gave a quick check on the fire barrel and ammo before fell in behind Steve, protecting his back. 

S.H.I.E.L.D’s satellite found a strange activity in Mexico; a quick air inspection using spy drones (another project being developed by Stark Industries) found preliminary evidence of possibly a HYDRA facility. 

It was built inside a mountain of rock, on the shores of the Gulf of Mexico bay. An inside agent who infiltrated HYDRA sent an encrypted message that HYDRA was developing a new weapon. The agent did not have time to say further because HYDRA killed him an hour ago. Their rescue mission turned into a mission to retrieve further information and destroy the facility. Mostly destroying the facility, though.

For the last minute change of plans, Fury has arranged for a second jet to pick up Banner, while Stark prefers to fly in by himself. They should be a few minutes behind them.

Their surroundings were almost pitch dark but he can see alright thanks to the enhancement HYDRA put on him decades ago. It was eerily silent if HYDRA expected they are coming after killing their inside man. 

He pats Steve’s shoulder and gestured if they should abort the mission and wait for Banner and Stark instead, but Steve shook his head.

_ “Element of surprise.” _Steve mouthed. 

Right, of course. 

Banner (uh, Hulk?) and Stark have the tendencies to go the wild way, forsaking any discreet they needed to extract information. Bucky shrugged and in unison they ran along the beach, sand muffling the sound of their boots. 

The cliff before them rose as high as a hundred feet, if not more, erect in the silence of the night.

_ Where’s the fucking door, _ Bucky wanted to protest. _ We needed Hulk after all to make an entrance. _

Before he could voice his thoughts, a soldier came out from behind a rock, cigarette tucked between his teeth. Steve knocked him out in one second, deftly captured the soldier’s large body before making a sound. They tucked him beneath the shadow of the rocks. From where the soldier came they saw enough gap for one adult to pass. 

They got in.

Steve kept a confident pace, knowing Bucky was protecting his back. Bucky directed his rifle ready to target anyone who might come at them, but they didn’t see anyone again.

At the end of the stairs was a large steel door and they frowned upon each other. They needed an eyeball. 

“I’ll go get him,” Bucky offered, proceeding to climb the stone stairs again. 

He found the unconscious soldier and dragged him back to the front of the steel door where Steve waited patiently. The soldier moaned when Bucky pulled him in front of the scan box, the eyelids trembling open. Steve beat him again and the soldier stopped moving. They scanned the soldier’s eye easily, the steel door beeped open granting them access.

The passage that stretched before them was bright white, a bit smelling of the sea and alcohol. The floor is white linoleum. There is only one door at the end of the hall.

“Alright, here we go,” Steve sighed.

“Right behind you,” Bucky replied. 

“_De ja vu? _”

“Are you worried if I say yes?”

Steve glanced at him and Bucky saw concern in his eyes. They know Fury always deployed them if HYDRA was involved. 

“The sooner we finish this the faster we get home.” Bucky reminded Steve. He did want to go home, fast. 

“That reminded me of my previous question,” Steve grinned. “Tell me who’s the woman.”

Bucky resisted the need to roll his eyes. “Again, what woman?”

They almost arrived at the end of the hall. There is a small window on the door.

“Buck, I’ve known you for decades now, alright? Do you think I won’t recognize that look on your face when I saw it every day in the 1940s?” Steve shook his head in disbelief. “Now do I know her or not?”

“Shut up, punk,” Bucky whispered, peering behind the window in the door. Behind it spread a wider hallway with another doors on either side. “I’m working here and you’re breaking my concentration.”

“Let’s get inside.”

The doors on either side of the hall also had small windows and they peered carefully. It was decorated like a hospital room, with men and women lay in each room, strapped to the bedposts. Two people in the first rooms were clearly dead, one was moaning for dear life. 

“What the hell?” Bucky turned to Steve who looked as disgusted as he was.

“What did HYDRA do to them?”

It was rows of rooms; the neon lamp above their heads blinked, shadows looming on the wall as they keep on advancing. They found a spiral staircase behind a door and slowly climbed up.

“Did the informant disclose anything to S.H.I.E.L.D before he was murdered?”

“A biological weapon,” Steve said. 

Another hall with rows of rooms. The men and women inside those rooms were either dead or close to it. They went to emergency stairs just as a revving engine was heard, running towards the sound that came from the top. The emergency stairs led not into the open air but finished up to another hallway. They could hear the copper preparing to fly away without any chance to catch up.

“Fury, someone’s getting out of the base!” Steve called in.

_ “Copy, Cap. We’re in pursuit,” _

Steve whirled around just in time to see a man advancing to them, faster than any average man he ever seen, with broad shoulders and thick muscles. The man took Steve at the neck, easily lifted him from the floor. Steve’s jab to his neck didn’t make the man flinch, nor was Bucky’s left hook to the man’s chest.

Instead, it made him angry. He snatched Bucky’s rifle and flung the weapon and his wielder like a rag doll. A door swung open to six soldiers running to them. Steve put another jab to the man’s body, finally freeing himself.

_ “Move!” _ Bucky shouted and Steve ducked to gave his friend a clear shot. The man went down with a loud _ bam _to the floor. 

Using his shield, Steve broke down a door near them and pulled Bucky just in time as bullets rained over them. The patient lying on the bed was dead, there was an I.V line still stuck in his arm. Bucky was busy firing back at HYRA’s soldiers who surrounded them in the corridor, while Steve snatched the half-empty I.V from the infusion pole. 

The blue liquid inside the I.V bag felt warm when Bucky touched it. He jerked his hand right away. Sharing the same revelation, Steve tucked the I.V bag to his belt just as bullets rained at them again. Bucky took out the device Fury gave and pushed the small button, letting the Global Positioning System transmitting their position to whatever other device Fury has.

“How this stuff should work?” Bucky yelled through gunshots.

_ “It is working, Sergeant,” _ Fury’s reply was always calm and annoying as fuck. _ “It scanned your position and the whole building to determine the best extraction point,” _

“Where’s Banner and Stark?” Bucky shouted to his radio. 

_ “Did you find the weapon?” _

“Yes! Where’s Banner and Stark?”

_ “They’re on the way,” _

Steve took out a small black device and put it on the wall. 

“They keep on coming!” Bucky told Steve. He glanced at the bed, carefully lifted the dead patient and put him on the floor. “Sorry you’ve to get through this,” he mumbled at the dead man, before turning to the metal bed again.

Using the vibranium hand Bucky lifted the bed and smashed the wall to make way for him to aim. For a second the firing stopped as the metal bed flung and crashed to the unsuspecting soldiers.

They dashed out the room; Steve’s shield protecting them from stray bullets as Bucky shot them down. There was only one way out and now soldiers were running through its door. They could only be advancing forward, like sheeps herded by the shepherd. Steve put another black device as they were running to the opposite of the hall. He detonated the bomb as the soldiers came running behind them, almost too close...

The door they had running through on the opposite of the hall was another hospital-like hallway. It was a depressing building with all white decoration and neon lamps. The goal was to deprived everyone in it from basic sensory.

A distant memory of the same colorless, gloomy hall came to his mind. 

Bucky blinked, massaging his temples as if brought him the headache all over again. A part of him doesn’t want to remember, but the other urges him to confront the memory. It even had the same smell, of fear, urine, and isolation...

“S—Steve,” he mumbled, before nearly collapsing onto the cold linoleum floor. 

Steve was by his side right away, grabbing Bucky’s arm to put around his shoulder. 

“Hey, hey,” Steve was supporting Bucky’s weight to his, to keep him standing, 

Bucky could felt how the cold sweat ran down his neck and clothes, making him hot under the bulletproof jacket. The headache pierced his brain even harder, making him groaned. 

_ He was back at that hall again, the windows and door enforced with steel. He knew that place… It snowed almost as long as he woke up, but he didn’t know the date and year. He only remembered that snow always fell and piled on the windowsill. _

_ The hall was always cold. _

_ Cold. _

_ So cold... _

“Bucky,” Steve’s voice called him, but so far away. Bucky tried to maintain his focus but it was a losing battle. “Stay with me, Buck!”

_ The hall was surrounded by iron bars; now he realized it meant to hold something from escaping. First his thought was him, until he saw three other figures at the end of the room. Two of them sat silently, while the last one stood not far from him… _

“Bucky, stay with me!” Steve’s voice getting fainter.

_ “Yeshche raz, soldat!” One more time, Soldier! _

_ It was another man’s voice. Bucky recognized him even before he turned to see who it was. _

_ Vasily Karpov. His... handler. _

Bucky felt nausea peaked in his stomach. Steve was dragging him, all the while shouting at him to stay awake. The hallway was spinning around him. If not for Steve’s strength that holding him, Bucky must have to lay hopeless on the floor, perhaps already passed out. 

Steve shouted something and Bucky compelled himself to snapped out of the pain, with trembling hands he reached out to his thigh where he strapped his Gerber Mark knife.

“Bucky! I need you to stay awake!”

Bucky snapped the pain in his head, focussing only on the men coming from in front of them. Their hands were on the triggers but Bucky was faster.

He pushed his feet against the wall, using the strength to propel himself towards the nearest gunman and sink his knife into the small gap between the tactical suit and mask he was wearing. The knife stabbed right into the jugular and the opponent fell motionless.

Bucky stabbed right and left, knowing Steve did the same not far from him. Soon enough before they knew it the enemies blocking their way were down. Bucky felt Steve’s concern glaring hotly behind his back when they ran towards the exit before any HYDRA backup caught upon them.

The device Fury gave him beeped inside his pocket. 

Their enforcement must be any second now…

A blasting blow followed by roaring rumble was heard from above them. The cliff where the facility was built in was collapsing, the sound of it competing with another roar that came from Hulk.

_ “Cap, Serge, there’s a window at the end of the hall. Don’t go blowing anymore, I need to extract something from the facility!” _came Tony Stark’s voice.

A door from Bucky’s left swung open, the door was torn from the hinges like a piece of paper. A huge man dressed in hospital-like gown grabbed Steve’s neck, choking him. Bucky leaped to Steve’s aid. His knife missed the man’s neck as the man turned swiftly to catch Bucky mid-air. With each hand the man chokes them, their feet waving in the air.

The look in the man’s eyes was determined, yet void of life. Bucky knew that look. He swung his feet to the man’s chest, twisting his body in the process, gasping free from his clutch. Air filled his lungs once again as Bucky pulled his Glock. Steve gave punches in the man's head. They were swinging dangerously now as if dancing with death. Bucky couldn’t risk shooting Steve.

_ “Cap, you’re not out yet?” _

“We are a bit delayed here!” Bucky shouted to his earpiece. “If someone could summon Hulk here, we might come out faster,”

_ “He’s busy being… himself. I’ve got what I’m looking for. You wouldn’t believe what I found,” _

Bucky doubted that.

The man let loose Steve after another punch to the head. For a moment the man looked confused, but before he seized his composure again, Bucky put a bullet to his head.

They crashed the window at the end of the hall, falling a hundred feet below into cold water. A small submarine shaped like a whale beamed to them, upon swimming closer a door gave them access to enter. Fury was behind the airlock door, waiting patiently as sea-water was pumped from the other side before the door _ hiss-_ed open.

Debris started to fell into the ocean as their submarine left the location. A faint roar from Hulk was heard along with a loud explosion that made even the sea trembled. The HYDRA facility has been destroyed above them.

“And that’s the end of the last HYDRA’s facility in America’s soil,” said Fury, satisfied. 

Bucky turned to his best friend and saw the same look on Steve’s face. 

“What? What is it?” Fury asked when both men in front of him did not say a word.

“They are making super soldiers again,” Bucky said, the horror must be plain in his face as Fury’s brows furrowed with concern. “This nightmare will never stop,”

_ “It’s true,” _ Tony’s voice joined the conversation via their earpiece. _ “I copied the data. There’s something in it you need to see. Sergeant Barnes might not the only Winter Soldier we know,” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday to one of my readers, Amy LaCosse!  
Wherever you are, I wish you abundant health and happiness X


	7. Wonderwall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wonderwall, a song from Oasis.

Bucky leaned his head at the nape of her neck and she could feel how her skin reacted to the touch. The rain hasn’t let up since midnight. She could smell the dampness emanating from his pile of clothes that lay under the bed. 

Spooning her, he wears nothing but his boxer brief. The Quinjet from Mexico touched down just after midnight and he had broken through the rain to get to her apartment.

“You remember Alabama?” he casually asked, his lips on her neck formed a smile.

“Mmm-hm,” was her answer, caressing his arm around her waist. She couldn’t help but smile too.

Bucky nibbled at her ear. “It also smelled like this room.”

“Wet socks?” she chuckled.

“Wet clothes, precisely.” 

“Ah,”

“So, you do remember?”

“Trapped in a beetle with you was an unforgettable experience.” 

“You enjoyed my company, if I recall perfectly.”

“I didn’t enjoy the space, though. My head kept banging on the roof.”

Bucky pulled her to lay on her back as he hovered above her. “Yeah. Goddamn Fury for giving us that tiny car. Made me never look the same again every time a beetle passed by.”

She had to laugh at that, cupping his cheek to plant a chaste kiss. “You came here all wet to reminisce about old times, Sergeant?”

“I was wet already thanks to the Gulf of Mexico. I hate water now.”

“Mmm,” she hummed, closing her eyes as she rolled back to her side of bed.

“Sleepy already?”

“A bit.”

“Tell Fury you can’t go.” 

Her eyes fluttered open at his suggestion. “You know I can’t.”

“You don’t seem healthy enough to me…” he observed and she felt like squirming under his intense gaze. “I left you for two days and you don’t seem to be getting better.”

“I’m just tired.”

He groaned, “I just got home and you have to leave in the morning. I hate Fury.”

“I know you hated him,” she laughed. Her eyes fell to his bare chest, admiring the well toned body. “You told me so at least once a day!”

“Go to sleep,” he ordered, but not unkindly.

She did. She woke up just before dawn, the rain had stopped and the room was cold even in summer. A shadow loomed from the sofa across the bed, for a brief second she thought an intruder was in the room with her. Sharon’s hand slipped under her pillow to the gun hidden underneath it, before she recognized the metal arm.

He had never spent a night before, one of his unspoken rules.

“Buck?!”

He was by her side in a second.

“Hey,”

“You’re here… all night?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?” Something flashed in his eyes. 

_ Was it… fear? _Sharon pondered. “Did you even sleep?”

He nodded, but the bag under his eyes gave away the lie. 

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“I just don’t wanna soak in the rain again,” he murmured another lie. 

_ “Right,” _ Sharon raised an eyebrow, deciding not to press the matter further. 

She went out the bed and straight into the adjoining bathroom; no longer could resist the urge to urinate, one uncomfortable fact Dr. Meland told her about being pregnant. As usual her morning routine includes bathing, brushing her teeth, and taking her pills (vitamins, no longer contraceptive). She put on sunscreen and light makeup, walking into the kitchen already in her suit; white shirt and grey pants with matching blazer. 

The smell of fresh brewed coffee filled the room. Bucky was there, still only wearing his boxer. That made her remember his wet clothes from last night, wondering if they were still wet. She was thinking to do his laundry, but for a moment she stood by the kitchen arch door to admire his slender back. They have never spent a morning together in such a domestic environment. Oddly, it also felt normal to think of doing his laundry.

Bucky was making toast using a skillet (she did not own a toaster), filling the kitchen with the fragrant smell of butter and milk mixed with cinnamon. The morning light slither through the big window overlooking the city, it was a beautiful color of sweet honey that fell to the tiled floor. He had the window opened to let the fresh air in. There was a scent the earth made after every rain and it blended perfectly with the steaming coffee from the pot, with the toast, and everything in it.

If she had to describe perfection, this is it.

“Good morning,” he said casually, sensing her staring as he skillfully flipped a toast. “When will I expect you to be back?”

She could hear Fury’s voice chastise their conversation. Agents are forbidden to disclose their missions or tasks to other agents. “Uh, I’m not sure.”

“With whom?”

Fury’s voice in her head was shouting to stop talking now. “Nat,”

“Oh,” Bucky turned to look over his shoulder. “I made you a coffee. There, in your favorite mug.” he casually gestured towards the dining table.

“Thanks, Buck,” She didn’t drink caffeinated beverages anymore, so before Bucky turned again she swiftly took the mug to the bathroom, ditching nearly half of it in the sink.

“There are clean clothes in the closet,” she called from the bathroom. “I'll wash your clothes, so you can just leave them.”

When she came to the kitchen again, a plate of toast with scrambled eggs was waiting for her on the table, along with the handsome cook. 

_ Odin’s beard, _she thought, wondering why people are crazy about Steve when there is Bucky Barnes.

“What? Whose clothes?” he asked suspiciously.

She blushed, “Yours. Sometimes when I shop I also buy you some spare.” She couldn’t decipher the look on Bucky’s face, cringing that she did it because she thought he might spend the night with her and... well, the morning after he would run out of fresh clothes, so she was just being ready. It was stupid, of course. 

“Oh. Thank you,” he looked surprised.

“No worries,” she cleared her throat, embarrassed. 

“Let’s go somewhere when you’re back,”

“Huh?” she asked, confused.

He bite his toast nervously, avoiding eye-contact. “Like, uh, movies? Trying the new pizzeria in the block? Y’know, normal stuff.”

_ Normal stuff. What do normal stuff people like us do? _Sharon raised an eyebrow, a bit taken back by his sudden demeanor. “So, the clothes will be in the closet, and now I’ve to go,”

She definitely had to go; her job was waiting, and the morning was too perfect that it brought up undesirable craving inside her. All of the sudden she was lusting over her friend again, which was not a good sign. She better go before she made a stupid move.

“Wait, you haven’t touched your food!” Bucky protested.

A minute longer and she might have jumped to him for a kiss, or worse, throw up. Not because Bucky was a lousy cook, far from it if she had to say, but she couldn’t stomach the smell of egg. So she smiles apologetically before rushing to the door. She felt bad about leaving him after he cooked her breakfast, but it was better than vomiting all over him. Bucky will thank her if he knows. 

\---

“I’ve to pee,”

“You have to... _ what?” _ Natasha gave her a look that could burn the north pole. “Well, hold up, princess, timing is not right!”

“Darn!”

“I know right?” Nat was looking like she wanted to laugh, but neither of them could laugh or excuse herself to use the toilet. 

Dressing in her skin-tight suit beneath her doctor’s garment and white jacket, she waltzed gracefully into the infectious ward with Natasha. Her blond hair which was tied at the nape of her neck began to slick with sweat, the smell of drugs in the hospital hallway started to make her nauseous. The fake glasses were heavy and kept on sliding from her nose, a mask covering her mouth suffocated her. 

She kept on reminding herself it was a simple task; special agents like her prefer such missions rather than long, undercover ones. 

The government-owned hospital was crowded, several soldiers on guard scattered in the hallway. Three of them were standing in front of a recovery room, guarding whoever inside. Nat cleared her throat and slid behind an empty nurse station in front of the room. 

Sharon glanced at her friend who wore a nurse’s uniform arranged in such a way.

Three sets of eyes followed her closely and Sharon was sure it was not because they were suspicious. To let them enjoy the view even more, Nat bent down on the desk, humming softly as she pretended to write something in a patient’s medical record.

Sharon turned her attention to the door; their mission was behind it, laying on the bed. She knew the door was locked, and produced a card from her pocket.

“I need to check on the patient,” she told one of the guards who reluctantly tore his eyes from Nat’s cleavage. The man nodded to her I.D, _ Melania McDougall, M.D., _ it read, with her photo smiling to the camera. The fake I.D Cameron and Fury worked for her _ beeped _successfully to unlock the door and she went inside. Passing the sterile partition, Sharon winced as alcohol was sprayed upon her suit. She stepped carefully through it, as she thought, the man was lying on the bed, both hands tied to the bedpost. The man had come to S.H.I.E.L.D attention as he was found selling a new hybrid virus that could wipe clean a continent like black plague erasing third of Europe’s population in the fourteenth century. 

The problem is, he incinerated his lab just before he was arrested. Fury could not get his hands on the scientist’s work, let alone the virus, to make sure it was destroyed before it fell to the wrong hands. They need to find out how the virus works; who might have the copy of the scientist's knowledge, and most importantly secure the man into top secret S.H.I.E.L.D facility before any interested party comes to get him. 

_“General Ross has him now. Considering his past interest in the Bio-tech Force Enhancement Project, I’m afraid he’d use the scientist for his own agenda. He tried to recreate the Super Soldier Serum, once. He failed and the result was the destruction of Harlem, I’m sure you still remembered the incident clearly. We need to extract the scientist, Agents.” _Fury told her in his brief before the mission. 

The iron handcuffs that bind his hands _ clang _ softly against the bedpost where he was tied. The man glanced as Sharon approached. The photograph of the scientist in his archive was of a young man in his thirties, thick black hair and cocky smirk that reminded her of Tony Stark’s mischievous smile. The man lay on the bed in front of her was quite different; the bushy black hair was adorned with grey ones, his eyes looped sleepily like he was aged twenty years in a month. His arrogant smile was replaced by a tired grin when he saw her.

“I don’t know you,” he said, a coarse voice of an old man. “You’re… different.”

“And how am I different from other doctors treating you?” she asked, pulling out a sedative from her pocket. Using a syringe she took a small amount of liquid from the tiny bottle, injecting it into the man’s I.V.

Before the man could answer, the door swung open. Sharon slid the bottle and the syringe into her pocket, and turned just in time to see General Ross walking into the room. She pulled her mask to her nose. The glasses she wore scanned General Ross’ face and five armed men behind him; their rifles, the knives tucked inside their side pockets, a tear-gas… 

General Ross paid her no mind as she ducked and busied herself with the patient’s record at the feet of his bed.

“Professor Cho,” General Ross greeted the man, “I’m Thaddeus Ross.”

“I know who you’re,” the man replied.

Sharon scribbled something in the chart, the micro camera planted in her glasses recorded every conversation and every movement.

“Doctor, do you mind leaving us?” General Ross glanced at her.

She nodded and proceeded to leave the room. Natasha joined her in the hallway as they walked away from the Infectious Ward.

“Ross is with him.” she told Nat.

“How long will the meds work?”

“It should be any second now,”

“Ross won’t be too happy to know S.H.I.E.L.D. is going to snatch the scientist under his nose. This will be messy.”

“I bet,”

“Nick, do you copy?” 

_ “You have permission to proceed, Agents.” _

The drug she administered in the scientist’s I.V. will slow down his heartbeats, making him appear like he’s dying. It was a new drug developed by Fury and was used to disguise his death some years ago when the Winter Soldier targeted him. Now, it still worked its charm as General Ross slammed the door and started shouting for doctors.

“The patient is not breathing!”

Sharon rushed to aid the ‘dying’ target as Nat hurdled out a defibrillator. “On three! One, two, three, _ clear!” _ As planned, the patient was still not breathing.

“What is happening to him?” General Ross shouted from behind.

“Sir, I’ll need you to leave the room, please,” Nat moved to push the man out of the way as Sharon pulled off the brake pedal on the patient’s bed.

“No, the patient is not leaving this ward!”

“Sir, please move, this is an emergency!”

“Wait. I know your face,” General Ross hissed. “You’re Fury’s bitch!”

Before any of them could react Nat slammed the door on his face and barred the door. _ “Take down the goddamn door!” _they could hear his angry voices as his men pulled out their guns.

“Dammit, Nat!” Sharon shouted as the door was gunned down. “You know Ross is not a friendly man!” Together they pulled the unconscious scientist from the bed. He was not a heavy man, but still, his limp body was an obstacle to them. “Next time I prefer to use the gurney!” 

“Alright! But let’s hope there won’t be next time!” Nat yelled back, rivaling the sound of deafening shots behind them. They slumped the scientist’s arms to their shoulders. Nat shot the window and they looked a hundred meters below. “Did you hear him call me Fury’s bitch? I’m no one’s bitch!”

There was an explosion from the door just before they could jump. Dust and debris filled the room. Sharon looked over her shoulder to see General Ross and his men lay on the floor, motionless, as a tall figure stood between the rubble.

“Looks like we’ve company,” Nat commented.

Dressed in black metal specialized body armor with an X on the breastplate, the figure let out a laugh when he saw them on the windowsill. He wore a custom helmet but neither she nor Natasha needed to see his face to know who he was. The news has taken on the infamous Brock Rumlow, known as Crossbones nowadays, the most wanted vigilante and terrorist in the United States of America. 

“Hello, Sharon,” Rumlow says, inclining his head in greeting. “Natasha.”

“Rumlow,” Nat greeted back coolly.

“Give me Professor Cho and I might spare your miserable lives.”

“Over our dead body,” Sharon said, dropping the scientist to the floor.

“He’d take it seriously, Shar!” Natasha chimed in.

“You’re not wrong in that,” Rumlow said, a bayonet came out from his gauntlet, “I had hoped to see the ol’ mighty Cap here, but instead I’ve got Black Widow and Agent 13!”

He easily blocked their kicks and jabs, but the heavy armor weighted his movement. He blade in his gauntlet aimed to her face, stabbing the air furiously.

“Last time I saw you, you were pointing a gun to my head,” Rumlow said, “But like last time, I won’t need a gun to cut you to pieces!”

The blade nearly got Sharon on the head as she glided to Rumlow’s feet, Natasha swung her legs up to choke him with her signature move. Together they took down the armored men, Rumlow grunting angrily. Before he caught up with either of them, Sharon took out her taser and stuck it in the gap of Rumlow’s armor, electrocuting him on the neck. He laughed.

“I’m immune to pain now, bitches!” and he gripped Natasha at the neck, throwing her off him. 

“Brock, you’ve lost your way—,” she began, but the blade was faster. It met her flesh, having stabbed through the fabric of her coat, sinking deep enough to draw blood from her waist. 

“You’re too slow, Agent 13,” he smirked, pulling out the bayonet, preparing for the killing blow.

If not for Natasha’s intervention, he’d have gotten his way of cutting her with the blade. Sharon slumped back to the floor, shocked, the white coat stained with blood. As Rumlow and Natasha were on hand on combat, four entered the room. Rumlow’s minions.

Pulling her Glock in time, Sharon took them down with a shot to the head. Their corpses piled on the entrance and S.H.I.E.L.D. and Fury will have many things to explain later. The shouting from outside the room was deafening. Someone was calling 911. She put a palm on her waist, it quickly ran red with her blood. 

Rumlow got Natasha on the floor; the bayonet hovered dangerously just inches from Nat’s face. Sharon shot him in the head but the helmet protected him. Rumlow hissed, rising from the floor where he kept a hand on Nat’s neck, choking her friend. His left hand took a gun from his armor, and every bullet Sharon fired at him was blocked by the armor.

Rumlow aimed the weapon to her head. “Say goodbye, Agent 13,” he sneered.

“Goodbye, Brock,” came Nat’s hoarse voice and Sharon saw Nat had pulled one of the grenades’ pins on Rumlow’s belt. 

“Bitch!” was his last word. He let Nat go to take off his belt, but it was too late; the force of the blow pushed Sharon out of the window.

_ No, _ she remembered thinking, Bucky’s face flashed before her eyes. Her baby— _their _ baby—whom she might never hold in her arms… _ No, _ she remembered pleading as she fell a hundred meters below. _ I cannot be dead now_.

She expected to hit the concrete floor, or hit the glass rooftop below, but the harsh impact never happened. Instead, two strong arms snatched her like a feather and Sharon had to blink a few times to realize it was Sam who saved her from falling.

“Do you miss me?” Sam jokingly said. 

“Nat’s still in that building,” was all she could say, thinking of her friend.

Sam’s face turned grim. “Yeah. They’ll find her.”

“And Rumlow—_Crossbones.” _

“You’re hurt,”

Sharon looked down to her side. Blood dripped to the grass when Sam put her gently in the hospital’s garden. They were evacuating the hospital, nervous pupils running out of the building as firemen and S.H.I.E.L.D agents secured the area. She refused to get treated, not until she saw Natasha was brought to the ambulance where an EMS officer tried to clean her wound. 

“Took cover in time,” Nat said, dropping next to her in the ambulance. “We lost Amadeus Cho. No one got to cover him from the blast.”

“Rumlow?” Sharon asked, but Nat pointed at her ears. “RUMLOW?” she asked, louder.

Nat shook her head. “Same fate. How’s your wound?” 

“She’ll need stitches,” the EMS officer replied. “Can we proceed now?”

The ambulance took them to S.H.I.E.L.D. private infirmary within the headquarter. Natasha suffers light concussion and temporary deafness due to being too close to the explosion. A nurse helped Sharon out from her soiled clothes, ditching it inside a brown paper bag and she was laid on the bed to get her stitches done. Thankfully it was a shallow cut, more like grazing than a stab wound. 

She was told that General Ross survived the blast—thank Goodness—but was left furious of the incident. Fury will be busy for the rest of the week, answering the senate and all. Natasha and her were told to lay low for a few days; something she was grateful for. Her whole body ached. There’s nothing she craved more than soaking in a hot bath as soon as she got home. 

Sam was waiting in the hallway, still in his suit. He grinned and hugged her, to which she gave an ever fiercer embrace, whispering thank you.

\---

She was cleared to leave early after submitting the usual report. A failed mission to add to her file, to her chagrin. But what the hell, Sharon thought, as she took the taxi to Dr Meland’s clinic. She’d need to make sure her baby is alright. 

As soon as the ultrasound came out fine she’d sleep better tonight. 

Dr. Meland had raised an eyebrow to see fresh stitches on the side of her stomach, the blue bruises that began to form on her thighs and her forearms, but he said nothing. If she hadn’t known better, the quiet doc might suspect she was a victim of domestic abuse.

“I’m a cop,” she said, hoping Dr Meland didn’t pay attention to her cringing face. 

“You need to start reducing activities that involve excessive physical activity.” he moved the ultrasound stick over her stomach, nodding to the sound of heartbeats. “The baby is fine. Soon we can find out the sex.”

Her phone beeped to the sound of an incoming message when she stood in front of the clinic a few hours later. Dark clouds had formed in the sky, almost telling that it’d rain soon. She took the subway home. 

It was a text from Bucky. 

_ I’m thinking of Warwick. I’m taking you to Warwick once we have free time. _

_ What’s in Warwick? _she texted back.

_ Movies. _He replied almost immediately.

Sharon bit her lip. Her phone _ beeped _again for another incoming message.

_ I thought you’re still with Nat? _

_ Nah, we’re done early, I think. _So Bucky has not heard about the failed mission, yet.

_ Home already? _he asked.

_ I’m not in good shape, _she cringed at the throbbing fresh stitches.

_ I’m coming in ten. _Bucky was a quick texter, considering he had just mastered the skill.

The train stopped at her station and Sharon slipped her phone back inside her jacket. In the evening rush hour, the station was crowded with commuters shuffling about. Everyone was walking with earphones stuck in their ears, the younger ones glued to their cellphones. People were walking shoulder to shoulder, some of them bumped involuntarily to her as she made her way up to get out of the station.

Fresh air hit her face as she emerged from underground, a faint singing from a street performer greeted her. She thought of what happened earlier that day, of Rumlow and the failed mission, of the second she thought she was going to die.

> _ Today was gonna be the day but they’ll never throw it back to you _
> 
> _ By now you should’ve somehow realized _
> 
> _ what you’re not to do _
> 
> _ I don’t believe that anybody feels the way I do, about you now _
> 
> _ And all the roads that lead you there are winding _
> 
> _ And all the lights that light the way are blinding _
> 
> _ There are many things that I’d like to say to you _
> 
> _ but I don’t know how_

She found a dollar in her pocket to put in the singer’s guitar case. The singer winked at her, didn't lose a beat of the Brit song. Whipping out her cell phone, she texted Bucky.

_ I want one large vegetable pizza with sour cream. _

He answered almost a second later; _ Coming in twenty. _


	8. Brothers in Arms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> was a song from Dire Straits.

_ “You do not understand, no, you cannot… We Russians, we have nothing but ‘Winter’.” _

The man’s voice and the smell of the room haunted him. The cold he never got to shake, it bites to his very skin now. They had made him a ghost; the very existence of him had been wiped away, replaced by a shadow that tainted history.

_ I am not a ghost. _

The dream came more vivid this time; he woke up drenched in sweat.

“Barnes, James Buchanan. 32557038, 107th Infantry Regiment,” the room turned upside down as he spoke, a coping mechanism he used while they tortured him so he wouldn't lose his mind again. “Barnes, James Buchanan…”

He stumbled out of bed and half dragged himself into the bathroom, where he vomited. It was getting worse after Mexico. He lost sleep, and when he did finally close his eyes he was back in that room again. This time, he was not alone. 

_ I am not a ghost, _ he said to himself, almost pleading. _ I am not a ghost… I am… _

“Barnes, James Buchanan. 32557038, 107th Infantry Regiment,” he mumbled.

The alarm clock rang from the nightstand, loud sound drilling into his already pounding head. It was 5 AM sharp. Bucky washed his face, rinsing his mouth with Listerine and changed into his running attire. The cool breeze of the morning welcomed him as he stood to warm up in the yard. Some NATs passed by, nodding to him politely. 

He began slowly before putting on more speed, enjoying the way orange and purple hues peeking from the horizon of concrete jungle in the distance. The fact that S.H.I.E.L.D built their New York headquarter with huge open space provides an opportunity for its residents to freely exercise. It was not a big surprise when three laps later he saw Sam joining him in the morning run. 

“Hey,” Sam called. 

“Hey,” he greeted back, deliberately slowing his pace to match Sam’s. 

They run side by side for a while. In the beginning, when they met on morning runs, Sam had been competitive. He does not like to know Steve and Bucky once in a while let him lead the jog. He dislikes it, even more, when they have passed more than ten miles but only his breath was wheezing. 

They ran until the sun was high enough and both of them were slick with sweat. Or rather, Sam. He eyed Bucky with envy as they made their way through a group of NATs.

“Have you ever felt tired?” Sam asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, of course,” Bucky answered as if Sam is a moron for even asking. “Only one arm is robotic,” 

Sam laughed. “Hey. Today’s gonna be slow. Coulson is in charge, while Fury went to the Capitol,” They went into the dormitory, taking the elevator to the living area. “General Ross is pissed, _ again. _ He’ll put us in hard times soon. Stark has not been nice to him too, not after Ross pestering him about the nanotech,”

That reminded Bucky of something. “Were you with Agent Carter and Nat yesterday?”

“Yeah, their wingman. The explosion was ugly, had to tell the press about leaking gas. Good thing it rid the world of Rumlow.”

The elevator _ dinged _ on Bucky’s floor. He patted Sam’s shoulder, making Sam raise his eyebrow in confusion again.

“Well, thanks, man.”

“For what?” Sam asked. “Hey, stop right there. Not cool to always have the last word, okay? Hey, BARNES!”

The elevator door closed, silencing Sam. 

\---

Fury’s absence did not stop Steve from taking charge of the team, let alone letting them go easy. His cell phone _ beeped _, alerting him of incoming text from Steve. They were to assemble in the meeting room; Tony, Coulson, Sam. 

Bucky chose the furthest chair from the head of the table, sitting uncomfortably among other avengers. He never felt at ease before them. They used to hate him; hunting him, and he tried to kill them at least once. It was not a happy memory, to begin with. Some of them are still salty about it. 

“Cap, he’s here,” Tony told Steve who nodded at him. 

“You good?” Steve asked, concerned. “Tony extracted something from the HYDRA facility in Mexico.”

“Yeah. Hit it up,” Bucky replied. 

Tony pinched something from the remote in his hand. At once, the screen in front of them displays an old video, black and white and slightly out of focus. It showed a grey building among the snow mountains, and Bucky recognized it at once; _ Siberia. _

The bile at the back of his throat threatening to rise again. He fought hard not to lose his cool, realizing the way Steve glanced at him. Though his eyes locked to the screen before him, his mind started to recall ugly memories of that place.

_ Barnes, James Buchanan. 32557038, 107th Infantry Regiment… _

They were brought into the building by anyone who decades ago recorded the video. The hallways are still etched vividly in Bucky’s memory. He could smell blood, alcohol, urine, and fear… And it was always cold. So cold… Snow is always falling.

_ We have nothing but ‘Winter’... _

Bucky jumped out of his chair, startling other men around the table.

“Stop the video!” Steve ordered. “You okay?” He was at Bucky’s side in a second, putting a firm hand on his shoulder. The flesh ones, thankfully, not the metal arm.

“It brings back some unwanted memories,” Bucky admitted shakily, angry to receive concern glares from Sam and Coulson. Tony looked unfanned, sitting calmly on his chair as if waiting for them to finish their casual talk.

“We could stop if you need time…”

“No. Play it again.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

Tony hits play.

They were back at the building again. This time they were brought into a room where a man lay unconscious. He was secured in the metal bed, an I.V. tied to his forearm.

“There’ll be audio after this scene,” Tony said. “I’ve asked Jarvis to translated it to human’s language,” when Coulson glares at him, Tony added cheekily, “To english, I mean,”

Bucky does not need Jarvis’ translation when he hears the audio. He understood it alright when a crooked voice narrated the video in Russian.

_ “The Supersoldier program developed by doctor Erskine started with Steven Grant Rogers...” _

Bucky shuddered at the man’s voice after never hearing it in person for decades. 

_ “...a noble and clever way to serve your beloved country. Since the death of doctor Erskine, however, we’ve lost the formula needed to rebuild the program. Doctor Zola was taken into the program with the best candidate brought into the fold. They, unfortunately, did not survive the treatment.” _

Rows of dead and decomposing bodies were shown in a snowy mass grave. 

_ “Then luck came. Asset 275 survived the treatment and woke up as the new fist of HYDRA.” _

It was his face staring blankly from the black and white video, strapped in some chair. Beside him, Sam fought not to glance at him. Bucky kept his face emotionless, though the bile threatened to burst out at any moment.

_ “Trained in arms and combat, we developed an advanced way to reprogram the Asset. Imagine you can reshape your whole supersoldiers; languages, weapons, every combat and every machinery you can imagine, programmed into his brain. You’re building an efficient killing machine…” _

_ I am not a killing machine… _ Bucky felt cold sweat running down his back. _ I am not a ghost. _

_ “...a ghost that does not need to rest and does not confine to human basic needs,” _

The screen switched to mass production of the said serum, then to rows of dead bodies again.

_ “...somehow Asset 275 survived. Only Asset 275; his resilience kept him alive…” _

“Do you know him?” Steve asked.

Looking at the blurred paused image from the video, after all these years, how could Bucky forget? He was one of the long lists of his handlers back then; the one who found the method to control _ him. _ Even on his dying bed, Bucky will not forget him. 

“Colonel Vasily Karpov,” he answered. “Not as famous as other HYDRA’s scientists, but still as evil… in his own way,”

“We believe he was the one who escaped the facility in Mexico,” said Steve.

_ That was bad news. _

“J.A.R.V.I.S is trying to locate him this very moment we speak. He must have reappeared somewhere. We shall find him soon.”

“What about the blue liquid?” Bucky asked.

“Doctor Banner said the tests came out that they were trying to make supersoldier serums again. They have not succeeded. The formula was different, but…” Coulson hesitated for a second, “But you’ve to know that it contained Captain Roger’s DNA.”

_ “My blood,” _ Steve chimed in. “Before I went into the ice I gave my blood to the government…”

“And one vial was stolen. Now it confirmed who had it,” Coulson said, looking troubled as he should be.

“The blue liquid is not the same as the one they gave me?” Bucky was not convinced.

“We don’t know what they gave you, Sarge,” Coulson admitted.

“But I survived that…” 

“Yeah,” Steve said, giving him a small bittersweet smile. “I’m glad you survived that, Buck.”

This century was a different world with the one he once lived in. Some things preserved, some things definitely changed. Out of all the changes was how often Bucky wondered whether it was his work or not. 

_ What if he does not execute that person? _

Will the world be a different place now?

If only he could escape HYDRA’s influence in his head when he fired the bullet, would America be on a different path?

_ You’re reshaping history, _his handler’s voice came again.

Clint took over the marksmanship class that afternoon. The NATs should be grateful not to face him. He never is a good teacher, always grumbling with almost no praise, and impatient with them. He spent lunch with Steve in his dorm, ordering take away. Steve’s room in the dormitory is bigger than Bucky’s, the walls are covered with maps and his paintings.

Everytime Bucky entered Steve’s room he felt like he was back in the 40s. He sat on Steve’s bed, cradling a guitar on his lap, mindlessly plucking at the strings. Neither of them play the instrument. It was Sam’s, who left it behind in Steve’s room. 

Steve sat on the couch, looking at the file they had about Vasily Karpov. Pens and a notebook scattered before him. For the last few hours after their meeting, Bucky had relayed everything he remembered about Vasily Karpov to Steve. Karpov has always been a HYDRA person; he lived and breathed for HYDRA’s domination of the world, starting with the ruin of the United States. It was a desire he had nursed for the last thirty years or so, Bucky recalled. No wonder that he never gave up on re-creating the superhero serum. 

They had thought with the demise of Alexander Pierce in the Triskelion battle, HYDRA had died with him… but no, HYDRA survives. Vasily Karpov survives. 

“Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Am I a bad person?”

“You are not,” his friend said matter of factly, looking up from the file he was reading. “You are worth ten more times than anyone I ever knew, Buck.”

“They will try to find me…”

“We’ll fight them.”

“Their... _ method _—the one Princess Shuri found…”

“Should have been gone. She is one of the brightest minds in the world.”

Bucky wanted to trust Steve… God, he wanted to. He wants to have Steve’s optimism just for this one time. 

“I am their only experiment that works… You heard it yourself from the footage, Steve. As we’ve seen ourselves in Mexico.”

“Buck,” Steve said again, knowing his doubt. “We will fight them together, and we will not stop, not until HYDRA disappears from the face of the earth.”

When he did not reply, Steve threw a bottle of coke at him. Bucky caught it with his flesh hand, now a subconscious thing to use the flesh arm for everything. He never liked the metal one, even when King T’Challa had granted him a new one void of HYDRA’s personification. 

“You want to go bowling with me and Natasha? Clint can join us tonight.”

“Nah. I want to, but I’ve got something to do.”

“Alright, maybe next time?”

“Sure.” Bucky opened the soda can. 

“Did you meet a girl?”

“Steve, _please_,” Bucky gave his friend a sideways grin, the one smile he reserved for being cocky. “Girls always have a thing for me, remember? But to crash your hopes, no, I’m planning to visit my family and take Bonnie for a ride. She had not been out of the garage in a long time.”

Steve Rogers laughs awkwardly like Bucky used to remember. 

\---

He has not visited them in a long time; his Pa, his Ma, and Becca. They were all buried in Brooklyn, thankfully, so it was easy for him to visit their graves. When he first moved to the S.H.I.E.L.D. quarter in New York, the first thing he did was to visit them… 

The Green-Wood Cemetery was a 500-acre cemetery located between Kensington and Sunset Park, several blocks southwest of Prospect Park. It was a large area of hills, valleys, ponds, and paths throughout an outdoor collection of 19th-century statuary and mausoleums. Trees and bushes offer cooling shade to visitors, a welcome oasis in the summer. The sun was setting and the parking lot was almost deserted when Bucky parked his motorbike near the gothic entrance. 

Some men never outgrew what they liked in their youth; for Steve and him, it is the love for motorcycles. Both of them had ridden a Harley since their Howling Commandos’ time. Bucky almost purchased the Street 750 type Steve used, before seeing an ad about Triumph Bonneville. He took one look at the black t100 model—his _ Bonnie_, Bucky called the bike—a modern classic custom motorcycle, and bought it. 

It reminds him of his old Pa. They used to have a Triumph in the 30s. Bucky remembered an evening he took his Pa motorbike to impress a girl he now couldn’t recall her name. He crashed the motorbike, destroying half of it, and later his old man refused to be in the same room with him for nearly a month. His allowance was cut more than eighty percent to replace the broken chassis, that he had to work part-time at the port that made him unable to hang with Steve.

The Barnesses tombs are located in the southernmost part of the cemetery, not far from an old chapel. It was where the older burial was located; huge oak trees were overgrown with moss and tall grass swayed by the afternoon breeze, the air humid and there was a stillness of time in it that Bucky heavily felt.

He found Becca first; _ Rebecca Barnes-Compton, 1925-1997, Beloved Wife, Mother, and Grandmother. _At least his sister lived her life to the fullest, before succumbing to cancer in her seventies. He was given her pictures by Rhodes, so Bucky could see how his little sister matured into a fine woman. She married a Navy, has two kids and five grandchildren. He had hoped to meet them one day, though he still hasn't figured out how. Not every day a half-stable hundred-year-old man shows up on their front porch hoping to rekindle a long lost kinship.

His parents were buried side by side, two blocks away from Becca and her husband. Mosses thrived on their tombstones. Bucky squatted to pluck the weeds that grew above his mother’s grave, replacing it with white roses he remembered was her favorite. The petals wilted a bit for being kept under his leather jacket. The last time he saw his mother was when she stood on that train platform, hugging a crying Becca. She had died months later while he was on duty. 

“Hey, Ma,” he said, clearing his throat and rubbing his neck that wasn’t itchy. “I, uh—,” he didn’t know what to say. 

_ You wouldn’t believe what happened to me, _ he said to himself, staring at the grey stone. _ I am afraid of my own mind. I am tired. _

“I’ve got a rough day at work today,” he tried to speak again, hoarsely, as if he forgot how to talk. “Steve is still Steve, serious with a strong sense of justice. But of course, you already knew him, right,” he chuckled at his own words, wondering why on earth he said it. He plucked another weed. “I met a girl,”

He thought of Sharon; of how her golden hair spangled on the pillow, of how her fingers slipped through his hair to massage his scalp… His Ma used to cut his hair too, Bucky vaguely recalled. 

“You’d say, _ Bucky, you always met a girl... _I know, Ma,” he chuckled as he twisted the weed between his fingers. “But what would you say if I told you it is different this time? She sings, Becca would love her if they ever met. Perhaps they’d go karaoke together,” Bucky smiled. “She hates nonsense, and she drinks coffee like it was water, so I guess Pa would like her, too, don’t you think? She fired weapons like she was born to do it.” 

Their tombs stood silently as they have been for decades. He felt weird talking to old stones. Weird, and sad at the same time. Who else could he talk to?

_ Let me sing of Dixie’s charms, of cotton fields and Mammy’s arms... _ he recalled her singing, _ ...and if my song can make you homesick, I’m happy. _

“She’s my friend,” Bucky exhaled, something felt tight in his chest.

It was already dark when he left the cemetery. He rode his Bonneville through the night crowd, the black helmet comfortably concealed his very face. In the dark, in the crowd, behind the helmet and the jacket he was just like another ordinary man. 

Before he called it a night, there’s one more thing to do. 

Sam Wilson’s residence was actually near Brooklyn, but he renovated the house and had to relocate into the dormitory. He took a room two floors above Bucky’s, and it was where Bucky was heading when he got back to the headquarters. He knocked on the door, faintly hearing Marvin Gaye inside. Sam answered right away.

“Bird, I need to borrow your car.”

“Wh—” Sam was incredulous. “I thought you already had my car?” he scoffed.

He was referring to the DC incident, an episode he will not let Bucky forget.

“I’m sorry about _ that _ car. You knew I did,” Bucky said defensively.

Sam grinned, “Yeah, yeah, sure Barnes. It’s in the garage, I’ll get the keys,”

“What car is it?” He had hoped his friend had a SUV, or jeep, or truck would be nice. But instead… Sam is now the proud owner of a compact executive car.

“It’s a _ Mercedes,” _ Sam protested. “She’s my baby. She’s an angel. And she’s _ convertible _. Don’t wreck her as you did my Chevy!”

“I said I’m sorry,” Bucky put on his most sincere face. He did feel sorry for Sam’s previous car. 

“What do you need my car for?” Sam asked, sounding a bit annoyed. He has the very rights to feel it, Bucky had smashed his Chevrolet on some DC highway when they first met.

“I have a date,” 

A rare smirk came upon his face as he saw Sam’s unbelieving expression.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!  
As some of you might already knew, I'm back to full time job now. Between other obligations and caring for a family member, I'm afraid updates will take longer than before... Please know that I truly appreciate your readership. Your kind kudos and comments are always welcome; cannot thank you enough for being so supportive since I start writing this fic. Esp when the pairing is rare and unpopular!  
THANK YOU SO MUCH!!  
My physical and mental health also not in good shapes nowadays, with work and all, and with this Corvid-19 virus happening all around the world. I hope all of you stay safe and practice good hygiene. Some of office mates' are in government's observation due to showing symptoms. I only wish I do not get it, but has been down with cold due to bad weather.  
Anw, until next time, which I hope will be soon! THANK YOU once again! X
> 
> \--  
FUN (or not so fun?) FACTS:  
\- Brothers in Arms was a song written in 1982 and performed by Dire Straits, in 2007 it was re-released to raise funds for veterans with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder;  
\- The music video with images from the World War, won Grammy Awards for Best Music Video in 1987;  
\- The Harley Street 750 is the same model as Steve Rogers' motorcycle in CA: The Winter Soldier;  
\- The motorbike Bucky has is a Triumph Bonneville T100, the same model Ethan Hunt (uh, Tom Cruise) used in Mission:Impossible III.


	9. Bad Things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> was a song from Jace Everett.

Warwick was a drive-in cinema, operated just outside New York. Going there was like going back in time. Bucky found one that was still operating since the 40s, complete with vintage faded signs of its early days, and colorful tents used to sell concessions. A huge pole was erected at the lot which hung light bulbs that glowed under the twilight sky, sending a melancholy vibe.

The drive-in cinema was crowded with patrons; SUVs, vans, trucks, all kinds of vehicles were welcome in the premise. They were lucky to have a good place to park the car. For ten dollar per person, the admission tickets were valid for all movies screening that night. 

Bucky was beyond ecstatic to be in his element. The drive-in movie theatres were a huge hit during the 1930s throughout the 1950s, it made Sharon a bit sad for him to wonder if he ever missed the life he was robbed of. 

“So, how does this work?” she asked him, watching him as he was busy setting up a small radio. 

“We sit here, inside the car, to watch the movie. I rented this portable radio from the parlor to stream the movie’s audio. Using the car audio only drains the battery. Sam won’t be too happy. We can stay as late as we want. There are five movie line-ups tonight, I think. Do you want something from the snack bar?”

He looked like a snack himself, she thought, but bit her tongue from commenting on it out loud. Watching him busy fiddling with the small radio brought a small smile to her face. That smile went as fast as it came when she heard him say, “...you seemed to be hungry all the time now.”

“Yeah? So I better go and check what they sell over there. Don’t expect me to bring you anything.”

His face fell, “Sorry, I didn’t mean that.”

“What I bring is all mine. Remember that when I get back.”

Sharon let herself out of the car and walked to the concession stands. There were a lot to choose from; nachos, all kinds of popcorn (caramelized, buttered, salted, cheddar, bacon-y….), fries, corn dogs, cheeseburgers, funnel cakes, pizzas... She took a look at the funnel cake and bought one with sprinkled sugar. That afternoon she did not feel nauseated for once in weeks, so she happily purchased corn dogs, buttered popcorn, fries, a bottle of mineral water for her and a Gatorade for Bucky. 

A man was standing too close to her while queuing, her back hitting his chest. She felt something thick under the man’s coat, and thought he looked like Bucky, to wear such attire in fairly warm weather.

“Excuse me,”

The man disinterestedly moved an inch, his face pale and emotionless. There was a scar on his left cheek. He did not say a word to her. When she walked towards the car, she glanced over her shoulder but the man was gone.

Bucky’s eyes widened when he saw her back in the car.

“You’re scary, y’know?”

“Nope; I’m too kind,” she shoved the Gatorade and corn dogs to his chest. “I still bought you something even when you just called me fat.”

“I did not call you fat!” he protested. 

“You did.”

“Did not!”

_ “Did.” _

“Did not!”

She rolled her eyes, munching on her funnel cake. It tasted amazing. She should have bought two. 

It was a warm afternoon of early summer; Bucky wore his brown leather jacket to hide the vibranium arm, black cotton sweatpants, and his old beloved boots. He told her he never fared better in summer days, so underneath the jacket he wore a thin dark blue crewneck t-shirt. He’d wish to ditch the long-sleeve jacket though, but could not walk and about in public without covering the metal arm. The media already knew his face even with the shoulder-length hair gone, so a black baseball cap never left his head.

“I’ve not eaten corn dogs in years,” Bucky said, staring at his food. 

Somehow his unexpected remark often made her sad. “Do you want me to grab something else for you?”

“Nah, I just…” he turned to look at her and grinned, “Hey, you got sugar on your nose!”

She giggled when his long fingers pinched her nose, making her let out a piggy snort. Bucky laughed, stealing a piece of funnel cake before Sharon smack his hand away. They stopped when the lights were dimmed and the screen before them lit up.

“Oh, here we go!” he said enthusiastically, hitting a button in the dashboard. The roof of Sam’s Mercedes rolled up, and a few moments later she looked directly at the purple and orange twilight in the sky. Sam is good at choosing his cars. “What movie is this?” Bucky asked, looking around looking for their movie list.

“The first one is called Eternal Sunshine of The Spotless Mind,”

“The Eternal… what?”

Sharon laughed. _ “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind,” _

“Err, okay,”

“I’ve watched this one. It was good, I think you might even like it!”

It was indeed good, but ten minutes into the movie she just remembered what the movie was about; a former couple who decided to erase the memories they shared together. She was afraid that would be a sensitive topic for Bucky; to see a movie of someone who chooses to forget the life he knows, of the people he cares about… even if it was just a movie.

Feeling bad, she stole glances to her friend who remained fully concentrated watching scene after scene before them. How could she forget that? She should have remembered, she watched the movie twice in the past! Geez, pregnancy brain. 

“If you’re not comfortable, we can go…” she began, to which Bucky turned to face her in absolute confusion.

“I don’t. Why? Are you?”

“I forgot what this movie was about,” she confessed.

After a moment of contemplation, Bucky’s confusion turned into a wide grin. “No, you’re right, I like this movie,”

The second movie of the line up was Keanu Reeves and Charlize Theron’s Sweet November. She had never watched it before, though if her friends were right the movie was considered gold. Indeed, she was well in tears as she watched how Keanu Reeves was led to a park, blindfolded by Charlize, only to take off the blindfold to find her gone.

Silently, Bucky lent his handkerchief to her.

“I’ve never cried watching movies before, no matter how cheesy,” she said, embarrassed. _ Damn hormones. _

Using the handkerchief she dabbed her eyes, the brochure on the dashboard caught her eye. Tonight was for drama movies. Maybe they should go on comedy night instead.

“There’s always a first time for everything,” Bucky commented, grinning. He cupped her cheek with his flesh fingers and squeezed, laughing at her duck face. 

“Oh, knock it off!” she smacked his hand again.

Bucky laughed, “Can’t help it!” When she glared at him, he cleared his throat and scratched his head. “Sorry. Are you still mad if I tell you it makes you look… uh, cuter?”

“I am not feeling cute at this moment, Buck.” Not with all the tears and snot, after all.

“Right. Sorry.” Comfortable silence fell between them, until Bucky reached for her hand and whispered, “Promise me you’ll never pull _ ‘Sweet November’ _on me,”

“What? To leave you in a park?” she snorted, “I think you will find me in less than ten minutes,”

“You’re aware that you’re also an Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D., right?” Bucky cringed. “Meaning, you can hide yourself if you want to.”

“Ha,” Sharon scooted the popcorn basket nearer as the third movie rolled in. “You’ve got a point, though,”

-

They stopped by the fourth movie (a Gerard Butler and Hillary Swank’s). She could feel her focus diminishing; it was warm inside the convertible car, she was full with junk food (something she usually avoids eating), and the evening breeze lulled her drowsy. But she does easily get tired and sleepy lately.

“Hey,” 

She could feel Bucky nudging her cheek but she refused to open her eyes.

He murmured something in Serbian. 

_ You and your languages, _she thought, wishing she could understand what he was saying sometimes.

In her sleep-like state she feels the car moving. He spoke to someone, returning the radio, and when she woke up yawning they were still moving. He had reclined her seat, so that she could lie on her back. It was dark outside the window. Street lights shone upon Bucky’s face when she turned to him.

“I fell asleep,” she said, still confused. 

“I could see that. There’s drool in your cheek,” He laughed when he saw her glaring. 

“What time is this? Where are we going?”

“Drive you home, of course. Just slightly past 10 and you’re sleepy already. Fury gives you too much work.”

She laughed at that. “I’m refreshed now.”

“So… Coffee?” he asked, grinning.

“I’d prefer pizza.”

“What, again!?” he sounded astonished as he should be. 

“Let’s find something to eat.”

“As Your Majesty commands,” he dutifully got out of the highway in West Route and turned the wheel along Dykes Park. As they stopped in the intersection, Bucky looked up to the rearview mirror. She glanced up to see what made Bucky focus his attention on. “Had been behind us the last ten minutes,” he said, clearly concerned.

“Turn right,” Sharon said, which Bucky complied once the light turned green.

The car was still behind them. Bucky took another turn to the right again, and let out a sigh after the car was gone by the third turn. They looked at each other. 

“Could be a coincidence,” he shrugged, driving the car to a twenty-four hour diner in Nanuet.

The diner has that red and ivory shiny look. Once they entered, the aroma of coffee and pies hit her, making her stomach growl. Bucky looked like he was suppressing a laugh. They chose a table by the window, him sliding to sit in front of her. A waitress approached with two menu books. Bucky pulled the sleeve of his jacket up to the back of his hand, making sure his black gloves were attached. He did not make any eye contact with their waitress, dipping his face to the menu before him.

She felt well and wasn’t nauseous all day long, so she settled on grilled cheese and hot chocolate milk. Bucky ordered a decaf. From where they sat, they could watch each other’s backs, while watching the entrance and looking at the parkir lot.

Inside the well-lit diner were six other patrons; they huddled low to their tables, busy chewing or just staring at their phones. The door swung open to reveal two men in trucker’s attire entering the diner. Bucky pulled his cap lower just as the waitress went back with their orders.

The headlights from a car hit Bucky’s face as a SUV entered the parking lot. In a second he tensed.

“That car again,” he hissed. The bell above the diner rang softly as it swung open and closed. “I saw him earlier,” he remarked, cupping his cup between hands. “The man sitting on the bar table, your three o’clock. He stood near the radio rental booth in Warwick. There’s a scar on his left cheek.”

She knew who he meant. The man bent over the table with his back to her, so Sharon could not see his face. But she recognized him alright from Warwick. The coat he was wearing could conceal anything.

Instinctively her hand fell to her waist to make sure the Glock was there. Sharon gulped her hot milk, eyes scanning the whole diner looking for a way out. “I saw him too in Warwick. Do you want to leave?” 

“I don’t want to be paranoid,” he admitted, looking a bit embarrassed. 

“You’re not. I trust your instinct.” 

One time could be an accident. Two times, and it was a coincidence. By three times it warned of an enemy.

He seemed relieved. “If you don’t mind, I prefer we leave. Just to make sure.”

“Yeah.”

Bucky threw his money on the table and both got up from the table. Just as they made their way towards the door, Bucky slipped his hand to her elbow. He had never touched her in public. They had just passed the mantle guy when a waitress stepped in front of Sharon, blocking their way out. Another guy stood up from the table next to Bucky, his hand tucked inside his jacket.

It happened too fast; she felt her body was shoved to the floor as Bucky hit the man right on the face. The man tumbled down to the table and a gun fell from his hand. _ “He’s got a gun!” _someone shouted. Patrons were now screaming and running to the door. Sharon looked up to Bucky but he kept her down, almost pining her. The mantle guy was now standing up from his barstool, another gun pointing at them… and he fired.

“Bucky!” she tried to pull him off the line but it was too late. The shooter’s distance was too close. Bucky was too strong for her to move, and he was still keeping her down with the flesh hand. 

She took a sharp breath when she heard bullets shattered just as it met Bucky’s vibranium hand, blocking it from hurting them. She reached for her Glock, took aim to the shooter and fired. The man fell backward, hitting a stool, before falling onto the linoleum floor. 

“Are you okay?” Bucky shouted, pulling her back to her feet again.

“Yes!” 

The first man groaned, blood dripping from his broken nose as he tried to grab his gun. Bucky kicked the weapon away, giving him another blow until the man fell down to the floor.

“Call 911!” she told the shaking waitress. _ “Now!” _

The man on the floor laughed, making them shift their attention, “Sergeant Barnes, we’ve been looking for you.”

Blood drained from Bucky’s face. He grabbed the man by his collar, almost dragging him from the floor.

“Who are you?” he demanded.

“We’ve nothing but Winter…” the man said, almost solemnly. _ “ _ _ Ty prinadlezhish' nam, soldat,” _ He reached out to his second gun, tucked on his hip. The weapon was directed... at _ her. _

She raised the Glock in her hand to shoot, but Bucky was faster; with his vibranium hand he gripped the muzzle as it fired; she could hear the sound of a bullet breaking inside Bucky’s grip.

Scarface rose from the floor, taking off his coat to reveal a bulletproof vest underneath. Under the neon light, she could see he also brought a rifle and grenades. This time Sharon aimed for his head, did not want to give Scarface a chance to use one of his weapons.

“We need to take them alive!” Bucky shouted. He grabbed the bloodied man by the collar.

“Not with that one!” 

_ “Vozvrashaysya domoy, soldat,” _The man in Bucky’s grip took out a pill from inside his mouth. 

“No!”

“Hail, HYDRA,”

It was too late; the cyanide only needed a few seconds to kill. He was already dead even before Bucky could forcibly open his mouth to stop him from swallowing the pill. 

“We’ve to go,” Bucky turned to her, pale as a ghost. 

Not waiting for her response, he pulled her out of the diner and into the humid night air. The sounds of sirens could be heard in the distance when they got in the car. Bucky stepped on the pedal furiously. In no time they sped through the night. He did not speak a word, too focused on the road. Once or twice he would glare to the rear view mirror to make sure they were not followed.

“You’ve to sleep in the dorm tonight.”

“No, why—,” she began, but Bucky slammed his fist to the wheel, letting out a frustrated groan. He started to frightened her. 

“They’re looking for me,” he hissed, “They could have known about you,”

“So? Another S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. What’s the big deal about them knowing me?” she countered, amused. 

“You don’t understand!” he yelled. He had never raised a voice to her before.

“What happened in Mexico?” she asked, afraid with the answer. “What did the man in the diner say?” Bucky was different after that Mexico stint. She had heard the man spoke of HYDRA before he killed himself.

Their car made a sharp turn in the crossroads, Bucky almost running through a red light. He has taken her to S.H.I.E.L.D. compound, disregarding her question and of her refusal. In such circumstances she did not want to argue, so she kept her silence. They’d need to notify Fury and the rest of the team about the incident too. In fact, she was already calling Agent Hill to tell of their incoming. 

“S.H.I.E.L.D. is already at the diner,” she informed him. 

The retina scanner at the gates blinked to confirm their identity before granting access. Even when they were in the compound, he did not slow down.

“Slow down or you’ll kill someone!” she chided him. “Bucky!”

He had opened the door the second he parked Sam’s car. “I’ve to find Steve,” he said, “But first I need you to go up to the dormitory.”

“I’m not a baby, okay,” she rebuked him carefully, even when she felt anger rising in her. “I’ve heard the man said HYDRA at the diner. I’ll go with you to find Steve!” _ You’re clearly not okay, _she thought, but keeping it to herself.

They found Steve in the common room, not a trace of sleep in his handsome face. Sam was with him, and Sharon noticed how his brow shot to the forehead upon seeing them enter the room together. 

“I’ve got your message,” Steve said. 

“They’re here, in New York. They found me,” she heard the tiredness in Bucky’s voice.

“Hill and Coulson are in Nanuet now. We should hear from them soon,” Sam told them. His brown eyes found hers and she could have swear she saw a smug grin from Sam’s face. “Come sit, Shar,” 

She dropped herself on the couch next to Sam, still eyeing his unreadable expression. 

“By the way, did you two just…” Steve looked embarrassed, “...went out?”

She opened her mouth to say something but Bucky was faster, “Yeah,” he replied, sounded a bit defensive. Sam’s grin broadened and Steve raised his hands to his chest. To say she was surprised by how easily he admitted they just went out together was mild; but then she remembered, Hill and Coulson could have found footage from the diner’s cameras, so Bucky’s response to just admitted it was reasonable.

“Just… found something to eat,” she smiled. “We all should go some time… I’ll ask Nat. Is she here?”

“Went to Clint’s farm this morning,” Steve answered. “Yeah. We should go together some time. Tony said something about… swarma?”

_ “Shawarma,” _Sam corrected.

“Right. That,”

The computer by the coffee maker _ dinged _to inform them of the incoming video call. Sam hit a button and a moment later they saw the police line and S.H.I.E.L.D. agents at the diner. 

“How are things over there, Hill?”

_ “Two dead bodies,” _ Maria Hill confirmed. _ “One of gunshot to the head, another by cyanide. We’re bringing the bodies back now. Coulson told the press about armed robbery. We’re taking all the cameras in the diner. Are you okay, Agent Carter?” _

“Yeah, thanks.”

_ “Nice shot.” _

“Lucky one,” Sharon replied, “He was standing too close, shooting up all his bullets. If not for Sergeant Barnes I don’t think I’d be here talking to you.”

“Do you find anything?” Bucky asked.

_ “Not a thing about HYDRA, just yet.” _

“Keep looking. I’m sure something must be up soon.” Steve said.

_ “Of course, Captain. I’ve to go now.” _

The screen went back to black and Sam turned off the cameras. 

“I need to contact Princess Shuri,” Bucky’s request made Steve’s expression change. 

“Sure. We could arrange that for you.”

He nodded. “Thanks, Steve.”

The two friends moved to another room; Bucky gave her one last glance before leaving the common area, tossing keys to Sam. “Thanks, Bird. Appreciate it,”

Sam grinned. “Anytime, Barnes, anytime… as long as you don’t smash my car.” Once Steve and Bucky left to make the international call to Wakanda, Sam turned to her on the couch. “Soo…” he cooed, “Sharon Carter, do you want to tell me something?”

“Like what?” 

“Like what are you doing with my car with the Winter Soldier?”

_ Bucky hates being called the Winter Soldier. _“He’s not a Winter Soldier. He’s Sergeant Barnes. One of us.”

Sam was a bit taken aback by her cold remark, but recovered instantly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend Barnes,”

Sharon sighed, leaning on the soft couch and closed her eyes. She felt her energy diminishing fast lately. “Sorry, Sam. I just remembered he doesn’t like being called what the Russians made him. And no, I did not do anything other than him taking me to that diner.”

“Yeah?” Sam looked like he wanted to probe deeper. “Is this your first time going out with Barnes?”

“And you start to sound like Nat, only less trained in prying information.”

“A choco-brownie Nat,” 

Sharon laughed. 

\--

Dawn was approaching.

She slipped out from her room and took the emergency stairs to Bucky’s, a floor below hers. He kept his room which he had inhabited since he first set foot at New York headquarters. Cameras were installed in every corner in the quarter, but she knew how to use the dark and blindspots to her advantage. Passing her old room when Fury had her spied on him, Sharon crept in the dim hallway and knocked softly at Bucky’s door.

A _ click _ and the sound of padlock coming off, Bucky’s face looked pale in the dark.

“You’re not supposed to be here.”

“You didn’t reply to my texts,” she protested. “I want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m okay.”

“Looks like not.”

“Go back to your room, little soldier. Go to sleep.”

“Did you even sleep?” she glared at him, annoyed by the changed behaviour. When he did not answer, she pushed the door wider. He stood by the frame, didn’t move to let her in. He was bare chested, the tip of his oversized pajama pants sank under the soles of his feet. “I need to make sure you’re okay.”

“Why?”

“Isn’t that what friends do?” she whispered, dolefully feeling the cold invisible hand gripped her heart. “To make sure their friends are okay?”

He took a step backwards, finally letting her come into his room. It had stayed the same the last time she set foot in there. Sparsely decorated, he did not own much furniture other than the essentials. His room contained one single bed, still neatly made, she noticed; a desk, two medium sized wooden drawers, an overflowing bookshelf, and a chair. His jackets were hanging from the hanger next to the entrance. Only the lamp on the bedside table was lit, along with the light from inside the interconnecting bathroom that the door he left ajar.

On the desk were three black and white photographs; Becca, his younger sister, with a man in Navy uniform, smiling on her wedding day. A photo of his Howling Commandos era, Steve still sported his old cotton blue white suit, both friends smiled proudly to the camera. The last one always made her heart skip a beat; it was a teenage Bucky, wearing white shirt sitting atop a motorbike with his cocky sideways grin, giving a ride to pre-serum Steve. Both were looking so young, like other normal men from another lifetime. 

The bed creaked softly as Bucky sat on the edge, sighing.

“How’s Princess Shuri?”

“She is… fine…” 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He was silent, so Sharon assumed as a no. She walked to him to put a hand on his head, once the fingers slipped to massage his scalp he sighed heavily. 

“Shit, I don’t expect this day to be like this,” 

She let out a laugh. “Neither did I.”

“Fancy for next time?”

“Why not? Somewhere only we know.”

“Somewhere only we know. I like that,” he murmured from closed eyes, enjoying the head massage from her hands. Soon she felt his muscles relaxed, his breath became slower as she guided him lying on the bed.

The first ray of the morning sun began to appear in the eastern horizon, slipping in through the window’s blinds at the end of Bucky’s room. The world was silent, safe for the sound of Bucky’s breathing as he drifted to sleep. She unconsciously hummed to a tune her mother used to sing when she was a child. She was in no hurry to leave, even when it will be increasingly difficult for her to leave his room when the sun gets higher. The room smelled of him; it was like pine and leather and something she couldn’t really put words to… it’s the smell of his skin. Intoxicating. 

“Good morning, Bucky,” she whispered to his ear.

“Don’t go,” he murmured sleepily, eyes tightly shut. His fingers crept to find hers. 

“I’m here,” she whispered, “I’m with you.” 

_ And you’ll always be a part of me. _


	10. Lake Shore Drive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> was a song from Aliotta Haynes Jeremiah.

Tony Stark strode into the room with the vibe he always carries around; confidence, cockiness, arrogance… If Bucky didn't know better, he’d easily think Stark is a jerk. But he could see the loneliness in his sharp eyes, no matter how good Tony tried to hide his emotions with his witty sneer and jokes. He had read about the incident that made Anthony Edward Stark become Iron Man. How he lost his parents at a young age, later losing his mentor Obadiah, after the latter betrayed Tony with the intention of using his Iron Man suit as a weapon of mass destruction. 

He had felt lonely and out of place too, so it was easy to catch the look on Tony’s eyes. In some ways, Tony and he got a lot of similarities though Tony would die denying it. Bucky sat on the couch facing Tony now, watching the older (technically, he is older than Tony, though) man loosen his silk tie with a dramatic sigh. 

“Look,” Tony said, clearly tired. But he does look tired almost all the time now, and it made his face appear older than he actually is. He snatched open a bottle of kale and cucumber smoothie. “Get your asses to the tower, _ right now. _ Don’t mind the belongings I’ll send men to fetch it. We can work better over there other than in this gloomy building Fury called `living area’.”

And he sensed the longing of a companion in Tony’s voice.

“We’re in no hurry to leave,” Steve said, apologetic. “Thor has not come back from Asgard, or wherever realm he's right now, and I still have a duty to teach new recruits…”

“Right, right, and you, Sam?” 

“I appreciate the offer, man. But I prefer my own place. It will finish in a month, so I better stay in the dorm until the house is finished.”

Reluctantly Tony turned to him. “Sarge?” Before he could say a word, Tony already threw his hands to the air, “You know what? Never mind. I’ve built you all your own floors so Avengers can get along well and at its best to… to serve the nation… whatever you call it. Barton’s already moved in, so does Natasha. Why don’t any of you want to move?”

An idea formed in Bucky’s head. “I’d like to move to the tower,”

Tony’s face lit up. “See? Barnes is wise. You won’t regret it, Sarge.”

“With conditions,”

Tony’s face wrinkled, “Yeah?”

“Put more cameras, heat detectors, and iron bars around the room. Make an artificial intelligence to watch me night and day, any… any slightest weirdness that they sensed, make them take me down at once. I insist.”

The three men before him were visibly shocked. 

“Barnes,” Tony began, and Sam moved restlessly where he stood.

“Buck, you’re not in prison,” Steve said softly.

“I’m not, but I don’t trust myself. Not after…” he trailed away, letting the sentence go unfinished.

_ Come home, soldier, _ the man in the diner had said. _ Come home. _

Sharon had agreed to temporarily move into the dorm, which was a huge relief for him. It’d be better if he moved out of S.H.I.E.L.D. and into the Avenger’s tower with better technology, away from her, surrounded by Stark’s Marks. 

A firm hand on his shoulder pulled his mind back to the presence. “I’ll move into the tower with you, but there’s no need to put all the security you mentioned, okay?” Steve offered.

“It _ is _ necessary,” he protested. “What is better than an army of robots to hold me down if… if they get into me…”

“While I appreciate your sentiment, Barnes, but Cap is right. No need for such a measure. The tower is safe and you’ll have a floor all for yourself. As for you too, Cap, and you Sam, if you agree to move in.”

“We can put the couch cushions on the floor, like when we were kids,” Steve tried to joke, which brought a small smile to Bucky’s face. 

-

“Hey, I heard you’re moving,”

Bucky looked over his shoulder to find Sharon standing on the edge of the boxing ring, hands crossed in front of her chest. She wore the usual training attire; specialized compression shirt, a pair of shorts, and open-fingered gloves. 

“I’m glad Steve’s with you,” she said again before he could muster anything to reply.

He wiped the sweat from his temples with the back of his wrapped hand. “Yeah. I was going to tell you about that tonight.”

“Did you?” she smirked, bending to join him inside the ring. Bucky lifted one of the ropes to give her more room to slip in. “So, dummy, huh?” she cocked her head to Bob the dummy he had been punching the last two hours. “Need a partner to train?”

“I don’t train with women.” 

“Afraid, much?”

Sometimes her stubbornness made him want to tackle her to the floor and rained her with kisses. “Last time we boxed, you scared the hell out of me. So, never again.”

She cringed. He grinned apologetically, knowing the memory embarrassed her. But she did scare the hell out of him that time. He turned his attention to the dummy in front of him, trying not to look at her. He _needs _to stop looking at her, or else someone in the gym might have realized something.

He felt her eyes watching him closely, like an eagle, as he tried to focus on the dummy. It was hard when the person you liked was standing so near, watching. He cleared his throat.

“I’m not boxing with you,” he said sternly, hoping her to hop somewhere else. 

“Alright, alright,” she quipped, still watching. 

“Fury still needs you and Nat to lay low?”

“Yeah. Nat stayed with Clint on the farm. You moved out with Steve after you made me stay in the dorm,” she complained. “I’m thinking of just getting back to my place, you know?”

_ “DON’T!” _

She almost jumped to hear him shout, as did few other Agents in the gym.

“It’s because of what happened in Mexico, isn’t it?” she asked softly.

“They’re still trying to recreate the supersoldier serum. They never stopped.”

“Look,” she moved closer to him, “I know you’re worried about me, and I thank you. But I’m no one. HYDRA is not interested in ordinary people like me.”

_ I’m afraid you’re wrong. _

He silently detached the dummy and carried it out from the ring. After putting it away, he went to where he put his towel and water bottle, still giving her the silent treatment. 

“Bucky?”

He brushed aside the guilt he felt as he walked away from her, the back of his neck burnt from her stare. 

\--

Bucky knew he’d to spend the rest of his life with Steve—both of them have no one from their past to begin with. Every one they knew were dead. They only have each other, just like when they were kids. So moving into the Avengers Towers with Steve was a thing he was rather looking forward; if not for Sharon.

She was determined to find out what’s eating him inside, angry because he gave her the silent treatment. He did feel immature for doing it. He was supposed to be the _ older _guy here. He was almost a hundred year-old, after all. Thus why he tried not to argue with her when she found him in the dorm, arms across her chest, brown eyes glaring. 

This time, he could not escape her. Piles of boxes already scattered on the floor, ready to be moved. He was putting in the most valuable last; old photographs, and several journals he wrote during his flight in Europe.

“You seemed in a hurry,” she commented, leaning on the doorsill.

He looked back over his shoulder. “So do you,”

She wore a light blue cotton down blouse, paired with black jeans and ankle boots. A small brown backpack slung over her shoulder. She was indeed going back to her apartment. 

“Do you need a ride?”

“Nah, I’m planning to take the sub,”

Bucky snatched his leather jacket from the hanger. “I’ll take you back. As an apology.”

She sighed, “Fine.”

“Let’s go. Stark will send his men to fetch these things.”

They went to the garage, where his Bonnie was parked among other vehicles. He gave her the spare helmet, and she hopped onto the motorbike behind him. Whenever he turned the key, he loved the way the engine blared; not too loud, just the right purr, as he revved it up. In no time they sped out of the compound, her slim arms around his waist.

The road to her apartment was not that far, he knew trafficwise it’d only take no more than ten minutes, especially when he sped through the streets. They stopped at the last red light when he decided a different route. Behind him, he could feel her shifting confusedly but her grip around his waist remained the same. He picked up the speed once they got into Canal Street and out riding beside the Hudson River.

The afternoon sunlight fell into the blue waters, making the surface shine like a thousand diamonds were scattered beneath. He won’t let her go home, not in such beautiful weather. Even from behind the helmet Bucky could hear the sound of screaming seagulls and white foam lashing out from the pier.

His Bonnie only reduced speed as they entered the area. He found a parking spot beneath a huge tree by Pier 46. People sit on benches or lay on the lush grass by the park. Children running with their parents shouting. She hopped off first, pulling out the helmet and he grinned to see her golden hair instantly tousled even more by the wind.

“Where are you taking me?” she demanded, rather interested than annoyed.

“Don’t go home so soon, it’s a beautiful day,” he said, pointing at a hot dog cart. “You want?”

Her nose wrinkled, “Uhh, no. Find me an ice cream.”

Unfortunately they did not spot any ice cream stand around the park, so they moved along the stone paths. On their left lay blue waters as wide as the eye could see. 

“Is this the port you used to work?”

Her question brought him memories, but he shook his head. “No, not here. The smell is rather the same, though.”

“Salty?”

“And dogshit,”

She laughed. The wind played with her hair mercilessly and he noticed her shivered under her light garment. Without a word he took the backpack from her shoulder, before taking off his jacket and holding it out to her. Thankfully he wore a white long-sleeved shirt underneath the jacket, and his gloves, so it’d still hide the arm.

“Chivalry not dead,” Sharon commented, for a second he thought she was even blushing.

“No, Ma’am, it is not.”

They walked side by side along the park. The wind carried out the sound of children laughing and a dog barking. No trees, but the clouds were kind enough to provide comforting shades from the sun. They were just passing a dog park when a frisbee flew low, only to land right on his foot. It had Captain America’s logo and Sharon giggled. A kid waved his hand from the grass.

“Here’s your shield, Cap!” Bucky shouted, throwing back the blue frisbee. 

“Thanks, Mister!”

When he turned to look at her, he noticed her expression changed. “What?” he demanded.

“Nothing,” she sighed, “Do you like children?”

“Not quite. They’re afraid of me too, if they could see the arm. _ Captain’s enemy, _they’d say!”

She frowned, “You’re Captain’s best friend, Bucky.”

“Tell that to the press,”

They walked down the pier, their boots were making sound on the aging wooden planks. He glanced at her but she kept her eyes on the horizon, skin glowing under the orange hues of the sun. It’d be sunset soon. The dock they were standing at jutting out into the water, the more they advanced the more windy it became. She stopped midway to hug herself, looking down at her feet.

“Hey,” he called softly, afraid he had soured her mood again. When she did not acknowledge him, he grabbed her shoulder. Only then she did look up. “What happened? Did I offend you again?”

“No,” she continued walking until they reached the end of the dock. There, they watched the sunset together. 

As the sun slipped further west, the dock became more quiet. He no longer heard the sound of laughter, nor the sound of chatter. When he looked around, they were the only ones left on the empty, dark dock. Lights began to be turned on, but the bulbs where they stood did not provide enough lighting. He was trying to recall at what time the pier closed, when he watched her move to the iron stairs at the end of the plank. Years ago small boats may have anchored there, though now not any longer. The ladder was rusted and forgotten.

“Where are you going?” he demanded, mortified to see her starting to strip. He looked around the dark pier, worrying someone might catch them. “Put that back on!”

“Let’s go for a swim.”

“Are you crazy? It must be freezing cold down there!”

“C’mon!”

“You’re even cold up here!” He tried to warn her, but his protests fell on deaf ears as she stripped out of her jeans. Soon she was standing before him on her bra and panties. “I’m not kidding. Put your clothes on.”

She smiled coyly, to his chagrin, and the bra came off followed by the panties.

_ “Shit,” _he muttered, didn’t have much choice but to drop the backpack and take off his own clothes.

Cold water hit his skin as soon as he descended, the unexpected strong current made him afraid for her. In the dark he saw her floating on the surface, looking at the sky. He swam to her, the tip of his foot could not touch the bottom of the river.

“Let’s go back,” he caught her foot, but she wiggled free, giggling. “This is not a joke,” he hissed. It was so cold that he was afraid the low temperature might cause hypothermia. “It’s goddamn cold!”

“Are you cold?” she chirped back, splashing the water teasingly at him.

“No,” he snapped, “Are you?”

“No,” she swam away, “Not yet.”

“We’ve to go back. What if someone saw us? What if someone takes our clothes?!”

Her laugh echoed in the dark, water rippling from where she floated. As she let him approach her without splashing water, he could see the way her eyes reflected the moonlight. If he looked at her long enough, he could see his reflection in there. The wind was picking up, his fear for her increasing.

“My grandfather used to take me swimming in the river,” she suddenly broke the silence. “He lived near the mountains, and a river flows behind his backyard. It was beautiful.”

“This is not in some rural areas,” he grabbed her hand and pulled her to him, this time she did not try to swim away.

Their feet brushed in the water, kicking to keep their heads above the surface. She laughed when she latched on his back; arms around his shoulder, breasts flattened against him… The water and his other concerns masked the excitement between his legs as he paddled them back to the dock. He tried not to look at her ass when she climbed the stairs. 

“Are you looking at my ass?”

He almost slipped and fell into the water again. “No.”

“Liar.”

Water droplets dripped onto the wooden planks as he watched her standing in the moonlight in her birthday suit. _ Shit, _ he remembered thinking to himself. _ Dead cats. Spoiled pizza and cockroaches. No, Fury is naked. Gods, imagine Fury is naked! Dead cats. Lots of dead cats… _

“Are you thinking of dead cats?”

“No, why?”

“Try thinking about something else.”

_ Someone might see, _ he wanted to say, but the words went dead on his tongue. _ Look somewhere else, _he chastises himself. Yet he stared, and he stared, like he was back a green boy all over again. The spell broke as she bent to take out a towel from her backpack. He cleared his throat, finally managed to look away.

The ride back to her apartment was a hard one, literally and figuratively; he sped through traffic, almost running over the red lights twice. He wanted to say no when she asked him to come up, but changed his mind. Deep inside he knew he better go. Walk away while he can. 

_ Fool, _he thought, as the door swung shut. Whoever first started, he could not remember. His hands were all over her, layers of clothes nowhere to be seen, and the next thing he remembered was how warm she was against him. How warm, and how wonderful, like they were perfectly made. It was not the kind of fucking they usually did. He knew he had to go, but he was not in a hurry… 

Her body yielded to him; legs wrapped around his waist, possessively, as he brought her to the bedroom. The heat of her center throbbed. He entered her with one sharp thrust, making her whimper to his mouth. He proceeded to move slowly… She was murmuring her protests, but his hand on her hips stalled her eager movement right away. They were not _ just _ fucking this time. This was different, at least to him.

And it felt so good, _ so good, _ to be inside her. 

They moved slow, a rhythm of their own dance. Light kisses, nibbling on each other’s lips. He ran both of his hands on the side of her body, covering her breasts with his palm. It was slightly swollen. She let out a familiar moan when his thumbs brushed the nipples. Whenever she moaned (and he knew she was noisy in bed) he thrust into her deeper, while they both held onto each other. Her nails dug into his skin, marking him.

_ “Yes,” _ her breath hitched, locking her ankles together on his buttocks. _ “Yes,” _

He got his right hand fell between her legs, dragging it teasingly towards the clit. The impatient sound she made made him smile. He murmured something to her, and her eyelids fluttered open. Their kisses got short and messy; he knew she was close. 

“What is it?” she suddenly breathed out, “What did you say?”

“What?”

She was breathing heavily. “You just... speak… something… in Serbian,”

_ Oh. _

He did not even realize it. 

“I said you’re beautiful.”

She smiled through her kisses; her breath became shallow when he concentrated on a certain part between her legs. The room was dark, moonlight peeked through the curtains. But he could see her perfectly; the way her back arched, mouth fell open as she clamped down on him. Sometimes she screamed his name, sometimes it came out barely a whimper. Whichever, he loved it just the same.  
  


\---

The Tower was lit like a Christmas tree even at midnight. The arc reactor that is the source of a clean, renewable energy worked beautifully to Stark’s satisfaction. The man had given Bucky full access to the Tower. His _ floor _ was located just below the Penthouse. 

In another time Bucky would appreciate the interior designer Tony Stark employed, but now all he wanted to do was to lie down and sleep. His _ floor _ was like a little mansion that he had difficulties opening and closing doors to find his bedroom. Stark _ did _ say every Avengers would have their own floor, didn’t he? Though Steve and he chose to be house mates (floor mate, precisely), he must be given Steve’s floor, just below the penthouse. The decor was a combination of warm natural colors and shades, creating rough, modern-classic ambiance decorated with stone, stucco, and brick walls.

“Holy shit,” he muttered as he found it was actually two-story, consisting of… Three bedrooms, three bathrooms, a private sauna, a small gym, rows of desks with computers just like a small office would be, a vast kitchen, a dining room befitting a five star restaurant… And, he couldn’t help but smile; a _ very _wide and long living room with large windows. 

_ Sharon should be the one to live here, _he thought, knowing she’d appreciate the large windows.

A book was left open on one of the couches. 

“Steve?” he called. He also had spotted Steve’s belongings scattered in one of the bedrooms earlier. His own boxes were put in the hallway, as he had not claimed a bedroom. “Hey, Stevie?”

He wondered where Steve would be, but their floor was just too big. Too tired and too sleepy to keep looking, Bucky threw his jacket to the floor and hopped onto the couch. It was plush, and his muscles relaxed instantly. 

_ Goddamn Stark and this too comfortable couch. _He already felt he did not want to leave.

“Good evening, Sergeant Barnes.”

Bucky’s eyes fluttered open, bracing for an attack. It was just his instinct. He did not recognize the voice nor sensing any person in the room with him.

“Please accept my apologies, for I must have startled you. My name is Jarvis,”

He leaned back on the couch again, exhaling. “Hello, Jarvis. Tony told me a lot about you.”

“Good things only, I hope, Sergeant?”

He smiled to an empty ceiling, feeling a bit taken aback that he was talking to an A.I. “Of course,”

“Do you need anything, Sergeant?”

“Just sleep,” he muttered, almost claimed by fatigue as his eyelids drooped shut. The blinding lights around the apartment were dimmed automatically, rolls of white curtain coming down on the window ledge.

“Good night, Sergeant, and welcome to Avengers Tower.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> posting this earlier than I thought!  
Thank you for your kind readership, Stay safe everyone X


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